It's been an interesting Wednesday morning. I decided to have breakfast in the Square and as I headed out I thought why not do my laundry at the Wishy Washy, after. So I gathered almost everything up, grabbed quarters and detergent, and drove to the Square.

Every spot around Square Forty was taken and I had to park up the street. When I staggered (I don't walk anymore, it's a Parkinsons thing) through the door at 0830, the place was full and rocking. I mentioned how busy they were to Shana as I headed to my back table, and asked Sue along the way, what's up?

Over the dull roar she said Pat's Cafe was closed today, which is the only other place in town to get breakfast. Shana told me they close every Wednesday, for some reason.

Then, as I'm doing my laundry, I realized that combining this with breakfast, was not a good idea. I didn't grab my coat hangers when I left the house, and I was wearing my favorite warm pants, which really could have used a wash.

My mind and my body are going out together, like an old married couple named Deme and Park.

My memory bank is a swirling vibrant separate entity, where fragments of my entire life float around in there, wrapped up in visual bubbles. Switching it on and presenting those bubbles to my mind randomly, and quickly, is my entertainment.