It cost a bit more in terms of money, but in order to save costs in terms of psychic resources, the salad fixings I bought for the heatwave included a package of peppers and onions that had been pre-cut for grilling, which meant no prep for cutting; just cutting. I’ve come to hate the process of salad-making, because I find it exhausting. Anything I can do to shave off some of the effort means that things like actually thinking about salad as a wya to survive the heatwave don’t fizzle out into not having the energy then to make a salad at all.

The coming heatwave means that I had to push my SNAP benefits in order to get hot-weather food (read: salad fixings), but fortunately I’ve more easily been able to create funds buffers during stay-at-home social distancing. Still, I hate tapping out the EBT card before the end of the cycle.

Wanted soup. Didn’t have any. But had vegetable bouillon, brown rice, and a frozen food hash of turkey sausage, sweet potato, red pepper, and onion. So, I did have soup.

That fear when you see you have mail from the Department of Human Services but it turns out to be notice that your SNAP benefits for the second half of the year remain the same as for the first half of the year.

Everything in here came from the frozen foods aisle, went into the pan at the same time, and came out of the pan at the same time. That’s about as complicated as I can handle anymore.

In what will be my only such outing, because I’m fairly confident that Multnomah County will not exit Phase 1, I had a sit-down breakfast at John Street Cafe, in part to generate momentum for getting to the store before the next two days in the high 80s.


One waiter in Florida explains for Slate how Karens are handling the pandemic as restaurants reopen.

[Customers like this] have definitely evolved because of the pandemic. The thing that’s changed on our end for the pandemic is that normally it’s “The guest is always right.” Whatever they want, we’re going to jump through hoops. But now I’m allowed to tell them no. “No, you can’t sit at that booth because we’re practicing social distancing.” You know how the Karens are: “I want it my way, and I’m entitled.” I’m like, “I’m sorry, but, you know, our restaurant will get by.” We only seat tables of up to six people. If it’s more than six, they’re going to have to social distance (at different tables) or sit on the patio, where it’s really hot. People have been throwing a huge fit about that. They want to push two tables together. You can’t because you’re putting people around you at risk. And I don’t think these people are used to hearing no from us.

Rachel Sugar’s ode to walking coffee (via Robin Rendle) is at least a little bit of a mirror.

Without coffee, there is “public space” and “private space.” With coffee, the whole city is your living room.

Thing is, though, I don’t wear a mask when I go walking, because I can otherwise distance. So, I still coffee.

Or, sometimes I tea. (Sorry.)

If they ever can re-expand again after closing three stores, I wouldn’t say “no” to a Blue Star Donuts in St. Johns, as long as they kept the Cinnamon Sugar on the menu.

A fresh, buttery brioche ring is thoroughly coated with our special recipe – sugar spiced with hints of cinnamon, ginger, and cardamom. Not too sweet, and spiced just right. An excellent way to really showcase the delicious buttery brioche.