10:06 a.m.: Does anyone in Arcata sell lamb bacon, Dad wonders? Where do I even look that up? Oh well, I guess I don’t need more bacon. Lacon.

11:15 a.m.: Dad gets annoyed at non-flushing toilet, goes into rage. Harvests tomatoes bitterly.

12:10 p.m.: Rage vented on beaten, bleeding tomatoes, Dad goes to Kmart and his spirits are raised through the roof by low, low prices on cotton T-shirts.

Dad, his shirt, his pie

12:14 p.m.: Dad chooses stripes but is disgruntled by color selection.

1:21 p.m.: Disappointed yet again by the vagaries of Kmart color, Dad goes home and eats left-over lamb shank and arugula, simmers T-shirt in boiling water and turmeric. Good idea, Dad congratulations self. Good mood restored.

1:23 p.m.: Maybe turmeric will increase brain power through skin? Dad laughs at his ludicrous notion. But still … Dad hopes.

1:55 p.m.: Dad shows off bright yellow shirt to Mom who vaguely and inadequately appreciates.

4:30 p.m.: Shirt in dryer. Dad makes pie. Crust is dilemma. Vodka for liquid? Vodka tried. Results doubtful. Fear reigns. Dad distracts self by playing the “Charlie Brown” theme song on the piano.

7:20 p.m.: Daughter arrives. Pie delicious. Shirt admired. Family sheds tears of gratitude, wonders at good fortune. Hashtag blessed.

11:04 p.m.: While watching the Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 3 episode titled “The Bonding,” Dad wonders aloud if Captain Picard really likes that fish tank in his office wall, which is kind of morbid and impossible to clean. Starts scribbling new office decor complete with Earl Grey tea-related 19th c. memorabilia.

Debates more pie. Decides bath instead.  Mom agrees, hides pie from late night Dad.

11:58 p.m.: Utterly defeated by whereabouts of pie, Dad decides better off with mush. Makes mush, eats while reading Boswell. Decides bed finally reasonable. Appreciates shirt one last time while brushing teeth. Victorious.