Write four lines of prose about a place: where the streets have no name.
It was good to be back at the bakery this morning. My voice held up pretty well, with only the last half hour or so being a struggle.
I ended up spending most of the afternoon resting. Still working on catching up on comments, but at least I've made it into April now. Baby steps!
The plan is to get some garden work done tomorrow. The strawberries are coming on fast - we'll likely be doing our first farmers market of the year in two weeks - and I need to get out there and do my part to make sure the rows are mulched and weeded.
It's pretty fun, sitting here watching the tourists wander in confused circles and asking each other for directions and tearing their maps into shreds. This isn't why I did what I did but it's a fantastic bonus.
No, I did it for the money, plain and simple.
If this city wants all their street signs returned they're going to have to pay me big bucks to dig them out of my basement.