I thought I was tutoring a little eight year old at a church out in the county which is my usual Thurs. aft. routine, but when I got to the church at 4:00: no one. Well, not really, as there was a funeral going on. Someone beloved by the congregation had died and was being memorialized. I saw a man who works for the funeral home I've known for years, and spoke briefly, got a hug, and left to head to Decatur. Leaving an hour sooner than I had expected.
Upon arriving in the city, in one of those places traffic stalls for no apparent reason, I took the next available exit. Just south of the soon-to-be-abandoned Turner Field. Hoping that I could just continue to wend my way north on surface streets, and eventually run into I-20. When I got there, to an entrance ramp and saw traffic three lanes across inching along, I didn't get in another slow moving stream. Headed north some more, expecting to eventually recognize some aspect of the landscape, to find my way to Eleanor St.
It all worked out: I've seen enough street signs, and landmarks, I can figure it out. And if I can't there is always that handy back-up plan of GPS. We went to Publix to get the ingredients for one of my most favorite things to eat: bruschetta, with fresh tomatoes, fresh basil, just baked french bread, fresh mozzarella, any number of mortal sins all in the same bite. Oh. My. Goodness. It was just as excellent as I expected. Which causes me to always clean my plate/eat too much.
And was so tasty, that I requested it again when returning from driving to SC yesterday. Sadly, like the biscuits and gravy, it never comes out 'even'. There is enough bread left for me to potentially have it for a third meal in three days, but all the other ingredients are currently being digested. My taste buds still remember....
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