After lunch, we walked about five blocks to a shopping area to look through some stores. Going was not a problem, as we were going "downhill" so to speak. But coming back against the wind we assumed a posture like this as we walked along: \ \ with BBBH being just behind me, she hoping I would serve as a windbreak. Even so, she had to sit for a bit to catch her breath before we completed the journey.
Seriously, the sustained winds were in the forty-mile range, and there were gusts that very nearly blew us over, perhaps sixty or so!
The good news is that we arrived safely home, and we spent only five bucks. Plus tax, of course.
We had left a crock-pot of beans simmering as it sat outside while we were gone. When we lifted the lid, we found a mixture of beans and really, really fine sand. Waste not, want not. The beans were poured into the colander, thoroughly rinsed, place in fresh water in a pot and put on the stove to finish cooking. Oh, those beans were so good for supper! Of course, the cornbread that accompanied them put the finishing flourish on the meal.
- I was born on the high plains in Southeastern Colorado during the Dust Bowl Era. I recall hearing mother tell of the battle with the dirt in the house, stuffing papers and rags around the windows and using all techniques available to keep the dirt out, to little avail. She said that the sugar bowl with the lid on and in a closed cupboard would collect dirt inside along with the sugar. I should have known that a day such as this one was not one in which to cook the beans outdoors.