[title type="h5"]Monday, March 2, 2015.
A Little Lamb. No Beans. [/title]
March's "in like a lamb" act closed on last night, to be replaced by a cold, rainy day today. But it's much worse in the Northeast, where Mary Leigh and The Boy are scampering in the snow. The blizzards up there have caused some minor eating crises down here. Lobster is in short supply. Some of the lobster boats are icebound. You can still eat all the lobster you want, but the price has swung sharply upward. Also affected are restaurants serving mussels as a specialty. The blue-black bivalves can only be found sporadically. (Green-lipped mussels, being a frozen import from Australia and New Zealand, are not affected. But that doesn't make me like them any more than I do. Which is not much.)
The first steps in The Procedure I am to undergo a week from today begin. I can't eat red beans, not until after the ordeal is finished. So I just make a ham and provolone sandwich on Susan Spicer's Wildflour Bakery's multi-grain toast. I wonder whether the many large grains visible on the tops of the bread slices will cause a problem. I decide they won't.
I head over to the NPAS choral rehearsal, but stop at the Walgreens to get the prescription filled for the prep kit for The Procedure. It comes in a big box with the brand name "MoviPrep." With a name like that, I expect to find a feature film inside the box.
The rehearsal goes well, and it had better. The gig is in six weeks. I need to read over all these Latin and German lyrics more than I have, just to get my tongue around the words. I find that the rapid-fire, staccato singing taps into the speed-reading resource I use to recording radio commercials. The things I can read fastest are the words I've read most in the past. That's all there is to that.
When rehearsal ends, it is pouring rain. I make a run for the car, and only get a little wet. I wonder how many umbrellas I have in places where they are not needed.
