Spring had hit full force and, as the temperatures warmed and days grew longer, there was a steady hub of activity amongst local diners. The change in seasons definitely brought folks out of their hibernation. A series of local festivals added to the busy season. It was good for restaurants, good for people, but bad for me. It meant I was suddenly running all over town covertly keeping a watchful eye, making sure quality was upheld.  

My rare night off had been hijacked by inclement weather. I was left with no recourse but to sulk and stew while blowing the occasional mournful note into my trusty Olds Opera. As busy as I had been with work, my Opera trombone seemed to be the only friend I was spending any time with. I blew one last note as my stomach let out a mournful noise of its own. I suddenly realized my hunger was definitely a contributing factor to my dour mood.