Behold the power of nature!

[muckefuck]

Crazy little day. My original plans were to help some friends out with their move, but when I called to ask when I should be over, they told me they had everything well in hand. So I called some other friends to see about going to Brandeis book sale (a Chicago--or rather, Skokie--tradition) tonight, but they weren't around. monshu had some thing he wanted to pick up at the local nursery, Gethsemane, and it looked relatively clear, so we hopped a cab over. The driver ranted, dropping the pearl "People are really smart when they're paying attention" shortly before driving us a couple blocks in the wrong direction on Clark.

God, it was nice to walk among such an immense variety of beautiful plants! At one point, I saw a tray of herbs and picked up one to examine it just as the owner of the cart it was in returned to claim it. Far from being annoyed, she was bemused and we struck up a conversation about borage. Shortly after, the employees started yelling for the owner of a "red Miata convertible that's about to be towed." I remarked to monshu that it was amazing how few people in that crowd raised their heads!

We had brunch at M. Henry, a charming little eatery we'd never really noticed before. He had the Killer Egg Sandwich, which really was killer. I had the--well, let me make this more interactive: What do you call a dish that consists of a slice of bread with a hole cut or scooped out of it, filled with a whole egg, and fried? The menu had at least four names, none of which I'd heard before. It wasn't bad, but the fancy language in the description had led me to expect premium ingredients. Instead, it tasted like craft cheese on top and the "chicken sausage" was really hot dogs. Clearly, the secret to this place is knowing what to order.

By the time we paid, threatening clouds were massing. monshu had stepped outside for a smoke while I ran to the restroom; when I returned, the heavens had oped. It was bucketing and, as I neared the front door, a huge gust blew it open, knocking the menus mounted on the adjoining windows to the floor. monshu was, of course, nowhere to be seen and to step outside would be to be drenched instantly. I decided to wait out the worst of it, hoping he'd made it to shelter.

After some minutes, when it seemed things has slowed up, I stuck my head out, spotted an awning, and dashed towards it. I found him standing in the entryway of the neighbouring apartment building. Another short cab ride (made longer by the affirmations of a Christian rock station) later, there was a surprise waiting for us back at the GWO's building: Apparently, that same blast of wind that had disshelved the eatery had completely shattered one of the panes in the revolving door. There was a workman in the lobby sweeping up shattered glass.

At that point, lethargy overtook me. I gave up on any thoughts of leaving the house again, made a quickie pizza for the two of us, and watched back to back movies on Mars with the Old Man. Red Planet wasn't bad for a lifeboat film litterered with action-movie tropes. Crimson Force was freakin' godawful. I kept hoping it would achieve the high camp of an RKO serial (the script was exactly an updated version of one), but it was just a clunker with more bad CGI than a month of commercials.

Comments

[aroraborealis.livejournal.com]

I call that dish (bread with hole and egg in hole) a one-eyed Egyptian. I don't know why, but that's what my dad always called it, so...

[his-regard.livejournal.com]

My family always called it "Bird in a Nest".

[princeofcairo.livejournal.com]

For us, it was the "hole in one," although I also heard "egg in a basket."

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

"Birds in a nest" was their leading choice. I call it "toad-in-the-hole", but only when the bread is fried, too, preferrably in drippings (which, sadly, this place was too frou-frou to do).