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It was another day spent feeling at less than 100%. I've had a chronic headache for the past couple of days, and have been feeling tired. I successfully napped today after taking care of all invoices to date and getting the travel expense report prepared (to be faxed tomorrow).
Galina called from Houston around 3:30 pm. She made it there by driving most of the night, but her experience at a rest stop somewhere along the way was quite frightening: two goons tried to get into the car while she was asleep, apparently waking her in the process. In the end she parted with some cash and resumed her trip. I think she was lucky.
After leaving the store this afternoon, I had intended to go home until 6:15 or so and then drop by the kids' place. The in-laws, so to speak, are there, and Drew sort of informally invited me over for lasagne tonight. Shannon's dad has already spent some time fishing and the freezer there is nearly filled with cleaned trout. I've been invited over tomorrow night for a fish fry.
Instead of going home today, though, I couldn't stand the suspense of not knowing what kind of mushroom season it might be, so I went up Piedra Road to the turnoff that leads, after 19 miles, to downtown Pagosa Springs. Along the way, my eyes kept darting to the side of the road to see if I could catch sight of any mushrooms. It's not a very effective practice, because the only time it works is when you are well and truly in the middle of mushroom paradise. With as much rain as we've had lately, I'm sure you could stop almost anywhere along the road and find mushrooms without much trouble (whether they'd be edible would be another matter).
I didn't go all the way down the road because I found a nice pile of Shaggy Manes along a stretch that I know is packed with such mushrooms, and it was getting to be around dinnertime. Prior to finding the Shaggies, though, I found an aspen bolete not far from the dirt road I was on; one of several and the only one that was good enough to take with me (the rest were too old and soggy). Frankly, I'd never seen these boletes along this stretch of road, although I really shouldn't be surprised at finding some there. In any event, I retraced my steps and ended up at the kids' place around 6:15 pm, whereupon I commenced cleaning and cooking the mushrooms. They were pronounced good by those present.
I got to feeling puny again after dinner, so I went home, finished cooking the rest of the mushrooms, and then lay down to watch part of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? I must admit, the film still makes no sense to me, or maybe that's the point.
Hopefully, I'll feel better tomorrow.
Cheers...
Galina called from Houston around 3:30 pm. She made it there by driving most of the night, but her experience at a rest stop somewhere along the way was quite frightening: two goons tried to get into the car while she was asleep, apparently waking her in the process. In the end she parted with some cash and resumed her trip. I think she was lucky.
After leaving the store this afternoon, I had intended to go home until 6:15 or so and then drop by the kids' place. The in-laws, so to speak, are there, and Drew sort of informally invited me over for lasagne tonight. Shannon's dad has already spent some time fishing and the freezer there is nearly filled with cleaned trout. I've been invited over tomorrow night for a fish fry.
Instead of going home today, though, I couldn't stand the suspense of not knowing what kind of mushroom season it might be, so I went up Piedra Road to the turnoff that leads, after 19 miles, to downtown Pagosa Springs. Along the way, my eyes kept darting to the side of the road to see if I could catch sight of any mushrooms. It's not a very effective practice, because the only time it works is when you are well and truly in the middle of mushroom paradise. With as much rain as we've had lately, I'm sure you could stop almost anywhere along the road and find mushrooms without much trouble (whether they'd be edible would be another matter).
I didn't go all the way down the road because I found a nice pile of Shaggy Manes along a stretch that I know is packed with such mushrooms, and it was getting to be around dinnertime. Prior to finding the Shaggies, though, I found an aspen bolete not far from the dirt road I was on; one of several and the only one that was good enough to take with me (the rest were too old and soggy). Frankly, I'd never seen these boletes along this stretch of road, although I really shouldn't be surprised at finding some there. In any event, I retraced my steps and ended up at the kids' place around 6:15 pm, whereupon I commenced cleaning and cooking the mushrooms. They were pronounced good by those present.
I got to feeling puny again after dinner, so I went home, finished cooking the rest of the mushrooms, and then lay down to watch part of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? I must admit, the film still makes no sense to me, or maybe that's the point.
Hopefully, I'll feel better tomorrow.
Cheers...
