Holiday

There apparently was some sort of mad run on puff pastry dough, because I could not find any at two different supermarkets.  Shelf tags where the dough should be, yes.  Puff pastry sheets, no.  So, I am going to try to use phyllo for my chocolate tart.  It may be a disaster, in as much as anything involving chocolate, fruit, and pastry can ever be a disaster.  So there's a comfort.

At the Starbucks this morning, there were approximately eight squintillion children.  Six of them were in line ahead of me, four with a couple and two on their own.  The two on their own were about seven or so, and had between them, twenty dollars and a Blackberry.  Also, probably some parents, though I did not see them.  Maybe they were at the other end of the Blackberry.

A lot of the kids were face painted, had balloons, streamers, and other fun red white and blue nonsense.  There must have been some sort of Patriotic Event off the main drag, but fortunately I didn't end up trapped in traffic.  That would have added to the irritation of being woken up this morning at 8.30 by people finally starting to work on the house next door.  Just last night, I remarked aloud how the fire was a month an a half ago, and there'd been no obvious repair work in that time.  Teach me to bitch where the fates can hear me.

Off to finish tart and wash dishes.  Happy Fourth!