I arranged to rent a car for the weekend. When I arrived at Avis this morning, Louis said that the airport hadn't yet sent over enough cars. I had a choice: a huge, luxury sedan or an SUV.

[Heh.]

So . . . . I'm driving a honkin' big four-door Chevy Blazer. Yeah, boy. Strangely enough, it actually has a better turning radius than most of the small pieces of tin that I usually rent. Aside from parallel parking, I'm ahead of the game.

The morning was spent at Home Depot in the garden department. My balcony is now in full bloom. Geraniums, impatiens, begonias, pansies, marigolds, tomato plants, peppers, all the spices (except rosemary, darn it), and several other things whose names I do not know. Most things are planted, and I think I have enough pots. If not, I'll go back tomorrow.

I know. I'm just looking for an excuse to roam the streets in MY RIG.

[With that "Oh Yeah" song from Ferris Bueller playing as the soundtrack.]

A little bit of excitment with dinner. I decided to make steak au poivre, which involves high heat and an abundance of smoke. The smoke alarm went off - as I expected - I had the stepladder ready, all set to pull the battery out when it went off. Unfortunately, the alarm that went off was the hard-wired one, which sends an alarm to the front desk. They called, I explained that I was just burning dinner, and then listened to the alarm for the next five minutes.

[Suki is still freaked.]

Quote du jour:

"Where there's smoke, there's Kay's dinner."

-- me

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