Zola wants, Zola gets
And little man, little Zola wants you
Make up your mind to have no regrets
Recline yourself, resign yourself
You’re through
—Apologies to Sarah Vaughan

Sorry, for the poetic license or literary liberties, but it just felt so natural. Yesterday, we lunched at the downtown Zola. Today, we brunched at Zola Bistro near Harry’s old house on Glenridge.

Yesterday, I did laundry. I got hit on and complemented also by a younger woman. I was folding our clothes when this woman observed that I was the most meticulous folder. She invited me home to fold her clothes. Later, relating this escapade to Anne, she said that I should have told her that I also cook. My wife just takes the naughtiness out of everything.

Today, we took Harry for a ride. We drove out Huron River Drive to Dexter, but they were having an art fair and the place was slammed. Turning around we looked at stopping at one of the Metro parks, but they wanted ten bucks. We ended up stopping at Barton Pond dam, which was just fine. Next up was Washtenaw Dairy for ice cream. I think that we exhausted Harry.

Another exciting day at All Seasons, as you can plainly see…