As I've said before, truck stop food is a special kind of comfort food. So's a lot of Southern food. My dinner treat tonight was taking myself to Delta Cafe on Woodstock, which specializes in that. I hadn't been there in almost four years (last time was a nice enough time that I blogged about it) and have kept meaning to go back. I'll be back quicker than another four years from now. A beef brisket po-boy (now I can spell it the right way (thank you, docbrite)) was my main dish, collard greens comprised my side, and sweet tea awaited in a jar. Thumbs up to it all.

(I've said it before, I'll say it again: collard greens are leafy greens with calcium. Mother Nature's a fantastic inventor.)

I read before and during my eating, 'cause I'm multi-talented like that. I neared the end of Vladimir Nabokov's King, Queen, Knave, which he wrote in 1928 and rewrote in 1968 (I had the 1968 version). I may have been the only person who's ever brought Nabokov to that restaurant. One of the several things I like about the book is how matter-of-factly it describes dream sequences. You know a character is dreaming, but it's neither confusing nor showy ("Hey! This is a DREAM SEQUENCE!"). I already have suggestions for more Nabokov to read, which is good, as I will.

Because there was a long-enough wait between buses and because I wanted to use some of the calories I'd just consumed, I walked all the way from the restaurant to some blocks past Reed College before I stopped at a bus stop, read some more, and waited for a bus to catch up. Got lightly spritzed by rain. I'll say that I'm watered. Or something.

Take it easy.