Coffee with Cathy as she leaves for work; I bid farewell. I start packing. Now, packing this car for this trip is an exercise in frustration and futility. Granted, I get side-tracked blogging the past few days anticipating that I may not have WiFi access the next few days. But, my oh my, it sure do take a long time. Of course, I continue trying to pack down, eliminate, certainly efficienate stuff (yes, of course it’s a word, just made it up). George Carlin: I got stuff. You got stuff. We get together, we got more stuff. Then get a storage unit for all the stuff.
Okay, it now is just before 3pm – so much for an early start. You might be anticipating where I am going with this – I am encouraged not to get to Jerome late in the day, but rather, go at it rested. Stay another night, if you like. My errands before leaving Mesa were to pop in to the Trailside Gallery in Scottsdale as well as to get over to the Mesa Cultural Center to drop a headshot & resume at Southwest Shakespeare for future consideration. Too late to get it all done. But the car is finally packed and more economical than ever (no, still no rear-view mirror clearance). I agree, and will stay in Mesa one more evening. It was hot packing the car, just under 100 degrees.
For dinner, I suggest we go on-the-cheap somewhere close; we visit Cornish Pasty in Mesa. This is my new favorite food of all time. A cooked pastry, not sweet, with untold delights of meat and potatoes and veggies. It is what the miners ate in Cornwall, England, turn-of-the-last-century. Bellied up to the bar, we are able to watch the preparations and the baking and I am making copious mental notes so as to open my own Cornish pastry shop (in every city in the USA that I ever have visited – the END, don't try to stop me!). It really was a fun meal, with a side of (steak) fries, baked with garlic and onion and herb. Yowza good.
Tomorrow: Take Two on the commencement for Jerome.