Ambrosia salad or broccoli-bacon sides . . . classic ham sandwich or smokestacker? . . . sno-ball cones or green apple screwball . . . bacon sundae or sultan’s nest? Who knew that gustatory decisions would loom so large on a building site?? and off a building site??
Last night, while Joe and Tyler biked to Coop’s for a foot-long delight of inch-thick bacon plus assorted extras, Roya, Mike, Jeri, Laurie, and I made our way to The Green Goddess — recommended by several folks, including Rick and Jane on our worksite. My oh my that is a special place! Almost all tables are outside in a pedestrian walkway, surrounded by fruit and flower pots, with one or two two-ers inside. The very friendly chef came to talk with us for at least 15 minutes during the two hours we were there, explaining the unusual menu and unusual drinks; at the end of the evening when he learned we were working with Habitat for Humanity, he generously donated a luscious sherry and a macadamia nut liqueur. For dinner — oh, where do I begin? — watermelon-crab-avocado cold soup; shrimp in a grass suit (you’ll have to ask); snails and tails (you’ll have to ask again); and hake (“the cod that says, ‘Y’all'”).
Up in the morning to our daily a.m. question as Mo drives us to the site: “Did we bring the Pringles? And the Originals, not the sour cream ones?”
We return to our original site. Today we were all divided up more than usual — painting the trim around the windows and door frames; hammering in more siding (I am proud to say that I’ve lowered my hammer strokes from 27 to 10 under the fine tutelage of Jeri); and putting up soffits. But wait. Where is the daily ice cream truck tune that we’ve gotten used to hearing and look forward to rushing out for for our mid-afternoon treat? It.Does.Not.Come.Today. We find solace in the strawberry Twizzlers that our week’s companions from New Hampshire have brought today.