Two Three things.
This morning John and I awoke to an empty driveway. Our car was still there (though to be honest I'm not sure we would have noticed if it were not; we never drive the thing) but the Sunday Times, to which we are shamefully addicted, was not. No one else on the street had theirs either, which told us this wasn't just a case of an errant toss. It was 7 am; I had even slept in a little. John, who had been awake since 5 am, was distraught and barely concentrating on the novel he'd settled for. I couldn't imagine what else I could do on a Sunday morning after the coffee was made, so I sat on the front stoop, coffee in fist, and waited. Five minutes in, my across the street neighbor came walking down his driveway, looked around on the ground, gave me a shruggy wave, and U-Turned right back to his house. Down the street from him, a woman was shuffling around in her flowerbed, head down, untied robe flowing behind her, looking for all the world like Jeff Daniels Dude in The Big Lebowski, except up way too early for that character and sans the white russian. The paper arrived around 7:40.
While I was waiting I noticed the tops were gone from our tulips. Damned turkeys.
Tonight after dinner at Courier, a quick stop for contact lens solution turned into a two-town (three if you count 'campustown'), five store search for the shit, complete with a stop at my office to search drugstore.com where it was out of stock too. A more complete web search pulls up rumors that the CIBA Vision plant in Georgia had some contamination problem, and the products were pulled back in February which was the last time I stocked up. Oh, and someone is selling a twin pack of it used on Amazon for 50 beans. Of course this is one of those contact disinfection systems, so I'm not sure what to buy in its place and will now need to call my eye doctor tomorrow. Whatta waste.