I was driving home from Quincy
when I found myself swerving into to the dunkin donuts parking lot to purchase something. ANYTHING. Three tidbits or whatever those little things are called. I was tired. It was late. I wanted the little ones I’d seen on the table at the talk I gave. They had halloween sprinkles crusted on them. At the time, I had refused them. Well, I’d had two of them and had refused to take more with me. What was I thinking? I wanted them now. I was nervous when I walked across the parking lot. Not that I would get mugged. I was worried that I was getting doughnuts. But doesn’t all of America stop at dunkin donuts and get themselves a snack? Why should I be any different? l was coming home from talking at the Adams homestead and it occurred to me that they never had to think about things like junk food. They were always riding or walking or weeding. And they ate things like apple cake, but only after smashing up the apples and hauling the water and the wood and pounding the grains. All I have to do is take out my wallet and worry. It was closed, though. which is probably good.