two times twenty-seven, or two times three times three times three

This rose blooms in the back yard each year around my birthday. This morning on a walk in my neighborhood I passed a house on a corner that had beautiful labeled roses planted on all the sidewalk frontage. Most of them were fragrant, too. One of the plant markers was not like the others, but was appropriate for all the roses at my house:

Diary Tuesday:

• I took the day off work and puttered. Is this what retirement is like? Because it’s pretty great!
• Pieper coffee shop stll has such good food. When they opened I thought it was the good food of a brand-new place before budget and staffing realities set in, but they have kept it up. I’m so glad they made it through the pandemic lockdown times.
• I tried a Lime scooter, you guys! It’s been on my list for awhile, along with the Biketown shared e-bikes, which I still plan to do soon. The scooter experience was…eh. It’s so heavy that there’s no sense of coasting or assisted motion; you have to continuously press on the throttle with your thumb. It doesn’t feel like flying. And because of the heaviness I also had to keep both hands on the handlebars, no signaling turns or pushing my glasses up. I’m glad I tried it but won’t become a regular.
• Sanguinity made me a pound cake, and for dinner she roasted leek scapes (super mild, almost asparagus-like) and garlic scapes (crispy at the tapered ends and, well, garlicky).

It’s been a wonderful day and I am very loved.