Kettles, Mittens...

Yesterday, I got to California.  Anaheim, to be precise.

The rental counter gave me a Yaris.  The Yaris is what took the place of the Echo.  Echos were awesome.  The Yaris...

I named mine:

I call it Shitty Shitty Bang Bang.  It's not that bad.  It's small, the whole thing is one big blind spot, and it has no pick up.  It also doesn't have a keyfob for locking, and the windows are not electric.  In almost every way, it's similar to the Echo (although mine was a 4 Door).

But after months of big nicer cars, this one was ... lackluster.


I got to the hotel, and got to my room, and relaxed for a few minutes, then I went to supper.

I ended up at Jagerhaus - Anaheim's finest German restaurant.  It's a tiny, plain hole in the wall in a nondescript strip of storefronts near the freeway exit.  Nothing special to look at.

Until they bring the food:

I don't really do veal, so this is chicken pounded thin, breaded and fried with red cabbage and potato pancakes.  In Texas, this would be chicken fried chicken.

After supper, I hit up Walgreen's for deodorant.  I left mine in Atlanta, I believe. 

I was wandering down the greeting card aisle when something caught my eye and stopped me dead in my tracks:

Dad gave me this exact birthday card about 30 years ago, give or take.  It so captures the essence of my rapport with him that I hung onto it.  It delights me.

Naturally, I bought a few of them... why?  Who knows.  But I have them.

Great day with customers.  Tomorrow I head home.

Monday I'm out again.

Tired y'all.  Real tired.