Pushing two am on Saturday morning.
I have spent the last couple of hours rewriting and revising and polishing the latest true crime article for Frank. Just sent a draft to my editor. I am so close to the material that I cannot state with certainty if it is any good or not. Could be great. Could stink like 10 day old fish left out of the fridge. Hard to say.
We returned to Dartmouth on Friday. Gateway Meat Market was selling haddock at a price that convinced us they were bonkers over there, so we had to go. Plus, a two pound bag of carrots was 17 cents. Same price for a two pound bag of onions. We ended up getting eight packages of haddock and spent an hour or so this evening with one of those food saver devices that suck the moisture and air out of whatever food you're trying to save.
On the way to Dartmouth, we lined up on the bridge to pay the dollar toll. I was so sick of lining up while people with those Macpass transponders just sailed past us. We decided to investigate getting one. Time was you had to pay a 30 dollar deposit, but they have been waiving that requirement for some time now. You just have to hook a credit card off it, with the suggested balance of 15 dollars. Each trip over the bridge costs 80 cents, 20 cents less than with cash. When the balance on the account falls below five dollars, it is replenished by adding an additional 15 dollars. We should have done this a long time ago.
Tonight, we watched some stuff on Netflix. Patricia got tired and toddled off to bed, so I came down here to write.
Now it is 1:47 on Saturday morning. I should turn in.
Cottage, will we see you today, or tomorrow? Hard to say. We will let you know.
See you tomorrow.