Digging My Way Out Of Kolaches
They’re probably right.
It was just yesterday (if you actually read yesterday’s blog) that I highlighted (highlit?) my day with safari into deepest, darkest Dollar General in search of the Wild Parmesan Cheese. How could anything be less exciting than that?
Quite easily if you are me.
This morning, after dream-filled night fraught with images of me walking in circles and the more I walked the farther away I got from everything, At a couple of minutes after 6 AM I popped into semi-consciousness. With only one lobe plugged in and operating I dressed myself, staggered down the stairs and made a pot of tea…all without any injury or embarrassing fashion faux pas. That gave me hope that things might be on the upswing.
I should have known better.
As I sat there slumped over my mug of tea like an early-morning barstool cowboy my wandering (read: unfocusing) eyes lit upon a shopping list note propped up within my field of vision.
Small Bottle of Bleach
I don’t care what fad diet you may be following in your pursuit of skinny jeans, there is no way in Rochester, Minnesota that mixing Bleach and Pepto Bismol can be a good thing. Just seeing that list at that hour made my tummy-tum-tum do a triple back flip. I tried to ignore it as I submerged myself into my tea. It didn’t work
It was all of 6:45 AM and on the evolutionary scale I was little more than a proto-marsupial. If someone had yelled, “Think fast!” and tossed a baseball in my direction I would have been easily beaned.
Small Bottle of Bleach
What could possibly be going on behind my back with those two items? It made no sense to me, but at 6:45 AM blood vessels made no sense.
One thing (Among many) that was bothering me was a nagging feeling that I was supposed to be doing something at that hour. I had a task with my name on it. All I wanted was a cup of coffee instead of that mug of tea. I felt that every sip of that tea was a slap in Joe DiMaggio’s late face. To use a “Mr. Coffee” brand drip coffee maker to make Lipton tea has always seemed to be somewhat sacrilegious. Eight years of Catholic grade school made me sensitive about things like that.
It was at 7:30 AM. I had choked down a second mug of tea. That hit a responsive note in my autonomic nervous system that slapped my face.
That was all it took to shake a few more brain cells down from the ceiling where they had been glued like fruit bats. I had enough cells stepping in order to put together the random bits that filled in some of the numerous blanks.
I remembered my missing task! I was supposed to get up early and go out to a nearby bakery and not come back until I had a box filled with a variety of “Kolaches.”
We have discussed these Kolaches before. They are a Czech pastry that is very popular in Texas. They are yummy.
Now that I had my sacred duty spelled out in front of me I sent out a psychic warning to everyone in South Texas:
With that notice out there I propped open my other eye, tore that shopping list from its little pad, and grabbed the car key to our rental car – a Kia “Soul” an incredibly ugly car. To me I always thought it looked like the Larval Stage of a much large vehicle.
First stop was the bakery. The sign on the door said that they opened at 6:30 AM. I don’t. I pushed open the door and pushed my nose up against the Kolache display case. The young clerk frowned so I straightened up and bought a half dozen of the ten Kolaches still there. It seems that since they open at 6:45 AM THAT is the time to get there. Any later than that and you were lucky to find anything. Oh, I must have been lucky.
After that I made a left turn across three lanes and went to the Dollar Store. They were open – barely. The place was a beehive of activity as delivery men were unloading skids filled with all sorts of stuff. I slithered in and in no time at all I filled my basket with Pepto Bismol and a small bottle of bleach.
When I unloaded my items at the cash register the clerk looked the two items then looked up at me with a questioning look on her face. I had the same look on mine. I figured I had o say something.
“I know. Those two things don’t mix very well…especially before I’ve had my coffee.”
She told me my total. I gave her exact change and she bagged it all up in record time. I was back in the car resisting the urge to smash a Kolache down my throat while I drove back to the Homestead.
Try and top that for a breakfast menu.