Bus Report #945
I walked down the street and, as happens these days, crossed paths with the shtetl scholar.
We exchanged reports on our respective weekends - he went hiking, I socialized, wrote, and cooked.
"What did you make?" he asked, listening with his eyes as he does.
I told him it was all comfort food; apple sauce for days, chicken pie.
"Sounds delicious," he said.
"Have a great day, enjoy this fog," I said.
"Oh, I will. I love the fog. I miss it when it isn't here," he replied.
Me too, shtetl scholar, me, too.