Why can't I sleep deeply like this on workday nights? I slept deep and hard last night, and I believe the only reason I was awake at 8:12 was that I had it in the back of my mind that I still hadn't found the newest copy of "Breathe." (Yes, the irony is not lost on me that I am getting irritated over not finding a magazine devoted to relaxation and mindfulness.)

So I had breakfast and gave Tucker a good walk and then hopped in the car and headed for the Barnes & Noble in Buckhead. I plotted the trip on the GPS this time, since I had a short turnaround time, and it rattled me by taking me the back way (Plant Atkinson Road) which was the way it used to take me to the hospital.

So, finally, the "Breathe" and a "Time" special issue about the first World War, and, to my enormous surprise, two different issues of "Best of British," which I literally haven't seen for years. I had two coupons, and picked up the new paperback copy of The Librarians and the Lost Lamp and also a history of the post office.

The Buckhead B&N literally has more unique items than even the Akers Mill store (especially in the magazines), so I pushed my stay to the limit and then had to hurry home, stopping only briefly by Publix to grab some bread. I was trying not to eat meat today, so arrived home five minutes before noon and hastily put together a blackberry spread sandwich while pulling up the readings for the day off Laudiate. I did my readings, then put on the BBC Lent talks that I had recorded in the past six weeks. This year's theme was Destiny, and my two favorites were the rocket scientist and also the 80-year-old gentlemen talking about old age. I was thinking, though, that the talks weren't quite as inspiring as in previous years. Then I put on some quiet music and read A Year of Biblical Womanhood, which I'm really enjoying—so much that I kept reading long after three.

James suggested we try a new buffet tonight; it was the Fried Tomato Buffet, and the name gave me a bit of pause. And, yeah, a lot of the stuff is fried. However, they have baked chicken and some non-fried stuff, and a salad bar. I was still avoiding the meat, so I ended up eating fried, as that was the only way the shrimp was served. When we got done eating we went next door to Petland to see the puppies (these are the folks with the "designer dogs" that they charge you thousands for), which, despite their price, sure are cute. There was one little shih tzu type puppy who stared in astonishment as James came rolling up in the power chair. What a face!

Anyway, I heard little budgie voices and went up in an upper area where they had budgies, hamsters, rabbits and ferrets. The budgies were in two little glass open-topped enclosures—well, most of the budgies were in one enclosure, and one lone budgie was in the other, and he hated it. He was frantic, pattering back and forth in front of the glass where he could see and hear his flock, but couldn't get to them. Several times he tried to dig his way into the other enclosure. Poor thing! He reminded me of Snowy, with darker stripes on his head, and blue where Snowy is grey. I was trying to get him to come to me, but of course he was just a baby and not tame, and when one of the Petland people came by, I said "He's all alone," and the employee tried to catch him, but he fluttered away, and the guy said, "I'll move him later." But the poor little guy was still running back and forth in front of the glass, trying to get through, and the next time he got close to me and started digging to get to them, I grabbed him and transferred him into the other enclosure. He was so happy; he walked right next to the other birds and started contentedly preening himself. People think birds don't have feelings, but the little guy looked miserable.

Then we went on to Michaels. They were having a 40 percent off on everything regularly priced with a coupon. The last time they did that, I was able to stock up on stuff, but this was a really thin trip: I got a wooden medallion, a magnet for my car, and some small wood blocks for mini-shelves. The other two things I bought (a frame and a pencil sharpener) were on clearance and not covered by the coupon.

We came home through the battlefield park in a soft velvet twilight, the air suddenly beautifully cool as we cut through the trees. I always think it so funny when we come through here on nice nights—we either come home from Town Center through Kennesaw Avenue like tonight or through Church Street, and both these streets are lined by big old homes, some low southern-style homes and others Queen Anne or some permutation of Victorian era, and a lot of them have nice deep porches which the owners have decorated with porch furniture. Some of this is quite elaborate: white rattan chairs with cozy flowered cushions, tables, little table lamps with soft pastel shades, big porch swings with padded seats, potted plants, "fairy lights," etc. The lamps on some porches must be lit by timers because they sit casting soft lights...on empty porches. I understand not sitting outside in July and August when the night air is as hot and heavy as the day air was, but even on lovely cool nights like tonight we never see anyone out sitting on these lush, plush, beautiful porches! Strange.

Labels: books, budgies, crafts, dogs, food, Good Friday, Lent, magazines

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