Saturday Evening Post

 Standard weekend day, mostly.  PetSmart (returned food that none of the cats, indoor or outdoor, enjoyed.  The raccoon(s) ate it up.)  

Then Wegmans (returned beef stock whose cap had been opened by someone before we bought it).  Bread, milk for PG, orange juice (extra pulp), 2 boxes of Dove Bars, and fixings for cranberry mold; mandarin oranges, raspberry gelatin, lemon yogurt.  

Leftover pizza and Pepsi back home.  I napped while PG watched Vera.  

But then, a first:  GrubHub to deliver 2 orders of chicken croquettes from Trivet diner.  The driver delivered in record time, although if the graphic is any indication, he may have taken some heretofore unknown shortcuts.  That gray stuff isn't road as far as I know.

In fact, the delivery car pulled up in front of the house while the icon in the graphic was still halfway down Daniel Street.  

Here's where it gets slightly more interesting.  He handed me the bag containing dinner, and I checked the contents, only to find one order of chicken croquettes instead of two.  I phoned Trivet, and the guy who answered the phone determined it was their fault and told me he'd deliver the 2nd one himself.  Maybe fifteen minutes later, he arrived with the rest of the order, plus a slice of pumpkin pie on the house.

Guess that's it for another day during a pandemic.  PG's gone upstairs to play on her PC and you know where I am and what I'm doing.  Here's what I'm listening to.  Laying no odds or taking any bets on whether that link will still be valid when you click it, 10 or 25 or 100 years from now.  (You're here in 2120?  Cool!  I used to go back in time, too, and download out-of-copyright books or publicly available media like Life magazine or the weekly referenced in the title above.  Hope 2120 is better than this year.)