Four disasters caused by food. Living in Boston, I had heard of the molasses flood. The pictures are horrifying. But the others were new to me.
I just read yet another article wherein somebody complains at length about how strangers in a public place, such as waiting rooms and airplanes, have their heads down in their phones and tablets instead of interacting with their neighbors.
Excuse me? Strangers. All here for some other reason (in this case, waiting to get our hair cut). Interacting with intrusive gossips and uncontrolled extroverts is not on my agenda. I would hope we’ll all be courteous* to each other if we do need to interact, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with minding one’s own business, whether that means reading a book, playing a game, or just staring at the wall.
*Talking on the phone may be different. On the other hand, the guy on the phone is quieter than the three women laughing about somebody’s bachelorette party last weekend.
Trying to decide whether to participate in Story-a-Day this year:
Art class project. Part of a probable triptych.
Neil took me to Boston for a blowout birthday celebration. Overnight at the Lenox Hotel, the Bruins hockey game in the afternoon, and the Celtics basketball game in the evening. Now heading home after a delicious breakfast.