We shopped on another of our glorious sunny Colorado days. Since you can count on having super weather all day long, going inside during the strongest sun isn't as spendthrift as you'd think. Mission: school clothes for RDC (plus whatever, of course). We went to Nordstrom Rack, which I correctly predicted had as little to do with Nordstrom merchandise as any Filene's Basement but the original one has to do with Filene's merchandise. So we found nothing. Then the actual Nordstorm, where we found a sport jacket and learned that the difference between a sport coat (dyed buttons) and a blazer (metal buttons). Then Dillard's for two ties and two shirts. Then Pottery Barn, where we learned RRP has not yet registered (and I checked Crate and Barrel and Williams Sonoma just to make sure I hadn't completely lost it).

Then the California Café for lunch. I had ostrich. I thought of "Ostrich--the other red meat" but apparently someone else already has. I have never had ostrich before. It was amazing. I might never eat anything else. The tenderest, most succulent red meat you've ever eaten, with a sweet, juicy flavor, better than the rarest quadruped. It has nothing in common with regular fowl in color, taste, or texture except bipedalism and less cholesterol. It has less environmental impact than other non-native species imported to this continent for meat. It was so good. Actually what occurred to me, to my shame, was a scene from The Thorn Birds. Food is an aphrodisiac, after all.

Then Men's Warehouse, then Petsmart where we scoped airline-approved pet carriers and I had to think an embarrassingly long time to come up with the name of a coworker who said hi, and then the Container Store.

With a name like that, The Container Store has no right to sell $1500 bookcases. I did spot purple plastic clothes hangers from 50 feet away, squeal, and skip to them. That was nice, but not as satisfying as the acceptable shoes, cheap bookcase, devastating suit, adequate bureau, flattering trousers, or spandy shelving unit that I had pipedreams of finding.

In the evening I helped HAO move her office and bring her bike home. What with Cassidy being that much taller than the Terrapin and the rack that much harder for me to reach, I figured wot the hell and shoved the bike in the back. Back at her complex, I wanted to show her how to re-attach the front wheel and re-hook up the front brake. As soon as we moved near a motion-detector street lamp, it went out. That must be because we are each so incredibly slender and nearly two-dimensional that we do not set it off.

Yesterday RDC bought a bike rack so we can stack the bikes vertically and thus have more horizontal space in the house. He had to go back to Performance twice because of defective parts, and he was cursing his own stupidity at the second return trip--he should have checked all the pieces before the first return. Anyway, to get the seven-foot box home, he put down the two halves of the back seat. Mostly. I discovered Banzai crushed beneath the seat the next morning. Poor thing. When I put the seat back down for HAO's bike, I damn well unbuckled my navigator (and tossed her on the floor) rather than crush her delicate little platypus beak.