Help wanted at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse

As you may have noticed, some of our regular crowd at the PBC&R has decided to move on (defect) to the Ohio Redoubt of the West Facing Cave, and so we have had to put out a help wanted sign. So far, we have interviewed two candidates:

Number 1:

jakie-all

jakie-face

With a Yale resume, he says he is willing to bus tables or discuss the global economic condition in relation to the price of tea in china cups.

Number 2:

somebody-all

somebody-closer

This applicant listed Rick’s Cafe in Casablanca as a reference. He has helped in kitchen, particularly with spices and likes to be on hand as thyme goes by.

The interviews are being conducted by our counselor, although some call her consigliere, Maxwoo.

*****

The West Facing Cave chronicled life with bears and friends in San Diego; unfortunately, circumstances rendered it necessary to be be removed and efforts were begun to transfer posts to The Westward Facing Cave. However, it wasn’t the same and remained undone. Here are three posts, though, that should be remembered.

To Absent Companions

Papa Bear is Gone (A personal and heartfelt reflection  written following receiving the news in the morning while in Georgia, rearranging schedule, flying back to San Diego and returning to apartment.)

Bears Take an Iowa Road Trip

We’ll see . . .we’ll see

The weather site tells me it is to be sunny today and tomorrow, with temperatures of 63 and 69. Maybe. It would be nice . . . on the other hand I have become somewhat accustomed to looking out the window and thinking it is cold and raining and might as well watch a movie and warm my feet by the firestove heater. See, a few days ago I was in the mood to go outside and perk things up and now I have been reminded of the comfort of cozy. I know I will feel cheerful out there raking and picking up. I just have to get it started. We’ll see.

UPDATE:

Took Summer to school; she complained of the seatbelt being stuck. Then Sydney and I went to the fairgrounds and he complained of nothing in the chilly sun of morning dew. We came home and went throuh the backyard to the porch so we could pick up a couple pieces of egregious trash – one was a windblown, rain-soaked, orange trash bag box. Another was a split open Diet Cheerwine can that I had stuck in a snowbank to chill, forgotten about and only remembered when the wind of the past couple of days dug it out from where it was under shrubs. That little fellow didn’t just pop his tab, he split his pants from top to bottom, and, alas, the cheerwine is gone . . . maybe to give the grass a boost.

And now the seatbelt is unstuck and Sydney is sleeping on the end of the sofa and I am going to go shower for a trip to Wal-Mart – auggghhhhh –  and the grocery store and then a jaunt over to the nursing home. I feel cheerful; I like that.