A tiny adventure

 Yesterday I had a tiny adventure. I went to the post office to mail a baby gift (and a big sib gift). In normal times this wouldn't count as an adventure of any size, but in pandemic days I am chalking this one upon the adventure side of the spreadsheet.

It was cold and damp. I can choose to have my glasses entirely fog up having me look and feel like Mr. Magoo or I can remove my glasses and hope for the best.  There seems to be a moment when the moisture equalizes and one can wear glasses that are mostly not fogged up. For some reason, the only way this can take place is if you also go into someplace warm while out.

All of this is a long way around way of explaining why I couldn't take any photos during the first part of this tiny adventure because there is no reason to take photos when you can't see anything.

As I walked home from the post office things were so grey that it looked like I was walking through a black and white photograph.

I love the composition. I regret that this is slightly out of focus.

Here I loved the interplay of the tree branches that looked like ironwork and the ironwork made to look vaguely foliate.

Here is a nice example of 1930s brickwork around an entryway.

This sign on Broadway left me puzzled. Is the chicken partially cooked? or are they selling half of a cooked chicken? Either way, I am not going to find out.  It amuses me as much as a long-ago sign outside of a shoe store a few blocks north on Broadway "Three shoes $99". I have spent entirely too much time over the years wondering about who might need three single shoes.

Despite all of my wondering about half roasted chickens and three single shoes, I did bake a loaf of bread. If you add a few tablespoons of cocoa to bread dough it turns into pumpernickel bread.

It was delicious for lunch with warm goat cheese.