The tree is ours, the truck is not.
Today we headed into Portland for breakfast at Pine State Biscuits, which is a heavenly breakfast mecca if ever there was one, but we decided on the way over there that if there was a line out the door, we'd go find something else, because it was just too chilly to hang out waiting on the sidewalk. Sure enough, there was a line, which I expected on a Saturday. We were in southeast Portland to go hit the fireplace store and score a bunch more Bear bricks, which are little fire bricks compressed out of waste sawdust. We need them to eke out the cordwood. Bear bricks obtained, we then had breakfast at Libbie's in Milwaukie.
Libbie's is a funny little dive of a place, where we've always had great meals, although Steve was a little disappointed in his chicken-fried steak this morning. Everything else was good, and the coffee was great. They brew something called Douwe Egberts. At any rate, we've now had dinner, lunch, and breakfast, in that order, at Libbie's and the food was great every time. 'Cepting the chicken-fried steak. If you go, don't miss the home fries. They're better than mine and I am no slouch in the potato department.
Then we came home, raked up leaves from the largest sweet gum known to mankind (get used to it- it's how I always refer to this tree), and then I finished assembling my cookbook shelves. I have them in the house to dry the glue because it's a lot warmer in here than the garage. Tomorrow I'll stain them and possibly put a coat of varnish on them. I also started a little fire stool for myself to sit on when I start the fire in the morning so that I don't have to carry my dining room chair over there, which is just inconvenient. I am now having a Tension Tamer tea, to warm up; Steve is reading Better Off over on the couch, and we're mighty close to cocktail hour. All is right with my world.