In three weeks time we'll be about where we were last year with the Garden. But in three days time there is an anniversary that this year I will consider worth celebrating with ice cream, rather than almost forgetting it, as I did last year. So I have spent about two hours fixing May 5th into one of those calendars, that pops up in an insistent manner, daring me to 'dismiss' it with a tap of the finger, and I have the device with it's sound on at high volume, which should provide further aid to memory because this particular loud sound can jar the nerves.
When I think about ice cream, it's the Vanilla Flavor or Caramel Flavor I think about. But there's time between now and the anniversary to perhaps demonstrate a little flexibility of thinking, and generally when I do that with ice cream, the mind wanders toward some sort of brick wall. And I have realized my main problem with any sort of veering away from the rope line that separates vanilla and caramel from all other ice creams, can be squarely blamed on a most unpleasant and deeply depressing experience I had some years ago with an ice cream called something like 'cookies and cream.' It was like trying to eat boiled Carp, if I remember.