When I talked to Hubby, he suggested we go to Woodhouse Fish Company for oysters. I'd had the craving for a few weeks, but Hubby's been feeling yucky and there's no point eating oysters if you can't really enjoy them.
So we met at Woodhouse and had my perfect meal, the one I want when I get condemned to die and have to pick my last meal. A cup of clam chowder, twelve oysters on the half-shell and a glass of the do-it-yourself lemonade. The oysters were Fanny Bays. Mild and delicious.
Afterwards we went to Aardvark, a used bookstore on Church Street. Hubby got some camera and photography magazines and I picked up a copy of The Liar by Stephen Fry.
Then we went on a tour of fallen trees in our neighborhood, knocked over by the wind during the rainstorm that went on ALL FUCKING DAY. Some really big damn trees were absolutely pulled out of the side walk. Crazy ass shit.
Hubby recently got a new Nikon D80 digital camera and is in the middle of one of his periodic fits of shutter-bugginess. I don't mind but he does insist on pointing it at me and I'd rather he wouldn't. I'm a raving ego-maniac, but not a very photogenic one.
So now we've got ALL the remaining disks of the first season of Heroes and should be done by the end of the weekend.