Neighbors drop by, on the island. They come to the back door; and if you don’t answer the knock right away (because you’re deep in a novel [because RESEARCH, honest!] and under a pile of blankets) they open the door and walk in, calling out, “There’s someone at the door!”
This is not a bad thing.
Because the news they bring, these neighbors who drop by, is that a fishing boat has just pulled in to the “county dock” across the street and is selling fresh fish, and this is a thing which should not be missed.
So there will be fresh fish for dinner tomorrow night. (Pictures too, most likely.)
Because tonight we went to town, to a book-signing and reading event, which involved the tasting of wine, and the meeting and exchanging contact info with not only the author but also 95% of the audience; and then we went out to dinner, at a place we hadn’t been before, but which YUM.
And in news of the Escalating Clumsies Contest, I am pleased to report that, although there was a parting salvo last night after I blogged (involving mouthwash on the bedroom floor), today has only featured water splashed all down his front (by Mark) and a really very teeny tiny stab wound on my hand (by me) on the way to washing dishes. Really, hardly even worth mentioning.