I had high hopes today.
High hopes that the Garmin 405 would be available to borrow at my local running store from their electronic lending library.
Score! After reading Shari’s post yesterday on gadgets I had Garmin envy and hit up the cheapest way I know to get my hands on a Garmin (FREE), even if it’s only mine for a week.
I had high hopes for a dinner out at a restaurant near Zak’s office before a homeschooling gathering tonight. He eats lunch here frequently and has only had good things to say about their salads.
Fruit & Salad Company? Yeah, it’s no coincidence you can spell A L I S O N with the letters from the name of this restaurant. How have I never eaten here before? This is a question that has no answer.
We all had high hopes there would be no 6 pm meltdown tonight.
But that one was just plain old silly.
We had high hopes that some apple juice would help.
We’ll take our meltdown to go, THANKS!
There were oh so many high hopes for an amazing salad from a restaurant that calls itself a fruit and salad COMPANY for crying out loud.
Can you make out the tears in my pile of iceberg lettuce? Turns out you can also spell the word S A D with the letters from Fruit & Salad Company. Too bad you can’t spell J I P P E D or R O B B E D.
I got the “Veggie Chop” which promised bite sized veggies and mixed greens tossed in balsamic vinaigrette. I left off the asiago cheese and would have left off the croutons too had I not been distracted by the 6pm meltdown going on at my feet. I will say though that I had an enjoyable treasure hunt in the car for the smallest pieces of broccoli I’ve ever seen, a couple of sad mung beans and three slivers of carrot. I do not have high hopes for getting my money back.
We all high hopes for a gathering with some new homeschooling friends this evening.
And those high hopes were totally warranted! We had a blast telling stories around a campfire with some homemade kettle corn, warm apple cider and lots of laughter. Iceberg woes temporarily forgotten.
I’ve got high hopes for a REAL salad tomorrow, or at least dreams of one.