Saturday again.

The Preakness was run today. The filly, which was a mighty large mare, won, but the horse which had won the Derby as a 50-1 shot, was just a few lengths behind when they crossed the finish line. Since the Preakness is the shorter of the three races in the Triple Crown, it is quite possible that if they had been running one of the longer races, the Derby winner might have won. He just ran out of track.

It was a good race and fun to watch.

Last night, we drove to Atlantic Station to eat Mexican food with our friend, Gray Plunkett, who is home on furlough from a missionary post in Benin, West Africa. We were seated at the table in the restaurant and decided to go elsewhere. So we left and ended up eating pizza at California Pizza Kitchen. Our meal took awhile before we were finished and we sat in the restaurant while a shower hit the area. The biggest problem was the Mexican food hole left in my stomach.

So, tonight, Kate and I drove over to Fayetteville, shopped at Old Navy, then went to La Parilla for supper. Kate had a beer and Steak Tampiquena, and I had sweet tea and Burrito Ranchero (which supposedly was the favorite of Pancho Villa). I kind of like eating a dish with such historic prominence.

Our waitress was a short, stout young lady who seemed to have very little Native American genetics in her background. She was rather cute and when it came time to refill my tea glass, she brought me a liter size mug of tea. I was set for the rest of the meal.

This presented a perfect example of what I ordinarily tend to use as a benchmark for good waitressing. If the waiter or waitress comes back to the table regularly to tend to my water or tea glass, I usually think I am being treated well. This waitress was doing a good job.

At any rate, after supper, we drove over to Barnes and Nobles and looked at the latest books, the sale books and the new music. It was fun. I think Cindy and Kate and I would agree that a trip to B&N is the perfect end to an evening out.

Anyway, Pancho Villa's favorite meal is sitting well on my stomach, and other than the pain in my legs from mowing the yard and the arthritis in my fingers, I need to consider the possibility of going to bed for the evening.

The yard is cut; the dog needs to go out before the night is over and it seems like a good time to turn off the lights, put the dog in the kitchen and call it a day. Tomorrow is another day.