The local Rotary Club turned out to cheer me and offer a free lunch. It seems Minnesota is a hotbed of free lunches. A young lady from the Agricultural college gave us a talk about local farming. Garrison Keiller is constantly on the radio telling us that people around here are all mad. It's obviously because they farm in a climate like this.
I also, finally, plucked up the courage to stand my transportation people down, and broke the sad news to them about Rozzie's demise. They had been waiting to take him off my hands. They were pretty blase about it; and thought he was probably already back on the road in pirate colours. Somehow, that cheered me up. But there was a serious point: the write-off price the insurance company came up with proved quite conclusively what a good deal they had made for me in the first place. It's not often you get solid evidence of that.
Later that night, there was an Irish barmaid to take my leave of. She remembered I liked my glasses warmed. That gets her honorary grown-up status.
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