Remnants of Rusty
Stopped in at Bacchanal to return Rusty’s carrier – Chris was sympathetic – I told him I had been apoplectic – showed him my scars – which N used to always spell “scares” – R was still with me and we were going to head to Marky’s because I didn’t want to get sucked into the spell of Bacchanal – but instead we wound up at La Vita where we ate lasagna, bruschetta, caprese salad, white bean salad – hips don’t lie – no bike ride today, just work on the LaLa, all day, and some parading – M, S and F all joined us but I begged off a late night and came home to check on my injured Bean. R had opened the back of the truck and didn’t catch Arlene who fell into the street and injured her leg and cried so loud my heart was cracking in two – I rushed around and dropped to the ground to cradle her in my arms as she howled and moaned.
She was limpy when I got home, but I prodded and pinched her leg and so it isn’t broken – just sore.
The Bean – sigh – she cries and thunderclaps go off in my head.