Yesterday afternoon, procrastinating me started thinking about my flower arrangement entries for the fair, which are due on Wednesday afternoon. I opened one of the kitchen cupboards and staring boldly at me, obviously begging to be in the fair, was an Eiffel Tower martini glass.  "I'm for the A Touch of Glass dry floral arrangement," it proclaimed.  "Okay," I said. "Let's go." We went to the office where I set the Eiffel Tower martini glass on the drawing board, into which the poor Husband keeps bumping as he goes in and out of the office. Before I knew it, the dried green moss called out from its basket on the floor, "Hey! Hey!" Bammm! A handful of moss planted itself in the glass, draping itself whatever way it wanted. The tiny blue straw flowers I bought the other day made a noise, "Me! Me! Me!" Bammmm! The tiny flowers stood proudly in the moss. "Yoooo-hoooo!" The fake pearls waved from its box.

Hurrah, I went beyond the neighborhood today. Tilda-Hilda and I pedaled 3.33 miles in about 18 minutes. Going up slight inclines was a challenge, but, oh so good for me.  We stopped at Sunnyslope School for a picture. That's where I went to 4th and 5th grade. The door on the right was my 4th grade classroom, where I suddenly went from being one of the tallest kids to one of the shortest ones. The door on the corner opened to my 5th grade classroom. I loved going into that door. So much imagination went on in there for me. I was introduced to writing make-believe stories and buying my own books through the monthly Scholastic book club. Mrs. Patterson, our teacher, calmed us down from lunch break by reading to us. Freckles , The Girl from the Limberlost , Anne of Green Gables , and The Secret Garden were the ones I recall. My world opened up in 5th grade.

I have no photo of Tilda-Hilda and me, but I give you one of me pretending to race on a bike rack in Half Moon Bay. The Husband took it on our day out celebrating our 19th wedding anniversary, which I wrote about yesterday . Tilda-Hilda and I are still pedaling about, mostly around the neighborhood. Sometimes once a day, sometimes twice. We go as fast as we can, always stopping at the Godmother Pat's house. Remember, she had a horrible work accident in which the tips of her thumb and middle finger blew off. After nearly three months, she's doing as well as can be. She and the Mama come from one amazing generation of stalwart women. I'm ready to go further distances with Tilda-Hilda. The Husband and I drive down country roads and I see Tilda-Hilda and my spirits pedaling on the shoulders. Maybe once the high temperatures give way to regular autumnal weather, we'll be out there again.

My Alphabe Thursday theme: Places I've Been September 23 was the first day of Autumn. It was also the Husband's and my 19th wedding anniversary. And, yes, it doesn't seem like it was that long ago we turned right at the xerox machine to get married. (For that story, head over here , if you like.) Our day began with breakfast at our favorite coffee shop in San Juan Bautista— Vertigo Coffee . That's one of the few places I'll allow myself to drink coffee. The Husband had himself a mocha latte, which is an occasion in itself. Until yesterday, he hadn't drunk coffee in over two years. We also ate BLT with soft scrambled egg panini sandwiches. Yummm! Using coffee stirrers as chopsticks to pick up the eggs that kept falling out of our sandwiches made the meal even more fun and special. We drove over to the coast and headed north on Highway One. Roadwork was going on, but that didn't bother us. We were after all in no big hurry to get anywhere. We

Okay, I have 3 minutes to post something for today. Two minutes now. One minute. Okay. I cheated. I published this post, and have now come back to write more. Simply had to make sure I didn't miss my daily post. Oh, these are signs that I saw in Half Moon Bay, about 25 miles south of San Francisco, which I'll write a bit more about in tomorrow's post.

Minutes before three o'clock in the morning, I ran along the train platform towards an open door. My host ran beside me. "Have fun," he said. "Come back with no money." I hoisted myself up the train steps.  "Boungiorno," I said to the waiting conductor, then turned and thanked my host. "I'll see you tonight." "I'll be here." he said. "Don't worry about a thing." The train to Firenze started. I began my unsteady walk through the darkly lit train in search of a place to sit. For the first time in many years, I was alone traveling in an unfamiliar place.

You know how sometimes you wake up one morning and you decide to be good about what you eat. That was this morning for me. I haven't analyzed the why-fors. Maybe I won't. I just went with the mood. Not that we have a lot of junk food in our refrigerator and pantry. The "worse" is a half bag of potato chips and a bunch of blueberry cheese pastry bits. The latter is the Mama's, which the Husband and I help consume, otherwise they go stale. This morning, I chose to forgo my usual breakfast selections -- peanut butter and jam sandwich or peanut butter, apple, and raisins rice bowl. Peanut butter, processed grains, and food loaded with sugar could be contributing culprits for my eczema flare ups. Hence, none of those foods for awhile. What did I eat for breakfast then? I made a salad out of organic baby spring lettuces, leftover roasted sweet potato rounds, and a handful of almonds that I topped with balsamic vinegar. Someone told me that the sweet potato satisfies