pretty, though

Wow. Eau Claire sure is . . . er . . . boring.

I'm neither shocked nor dismayed, as I knew this coming in. I came prepared.

I did think getting a decent breakfast would be easier, though. Unimpressed with last night's in-hotel bistro dinner, I set out this morning in search of a diner. You know the type: smells like hash brown grease, fake maple syrup, mature coffee, and the slush knocked off the patrons' boots. Every town has a diner, right?

In search of this diner, I walked all the way down Barstow St., which passes as downtown's main drag, and all the way back up, and found precisely one shop open. It was not a diner but a jewelry store. The proprietor, a lady of a certain age wearing enough silver conchos to hunch her into a question mark, recommended a place called Ricky D's. On a warmer day, it would have been within walking distance, but with temps just under 30 degrees and a sharp wind blowing in off the river, I decided to drive.

Ricky's was right where it was supposed to be. The sign out front promised "Southern cooking in a northern atmosphere." The inside was log cabiny, complete with a fireplace, and it smelled right, so I went in. My patience was rewarded by the best biscuits and gravy since the last time went to an out-of-state concert alone (RP last April, also in WI). I'll go back tomorrow and try something from the other side of the menu.

So far, I've circumnavigated town twice and walked every aisle of the Oakwood Mall. It's 2:30 and I'm back in my room reading, watching TV, surfing, and listening to podcasts, pretty much all at the same time. Life is wicked good. It would be wicked better, however, if I could get a snack of some kind, so that's where I'm off to next. Not sure what I want or what's available nearby. But I don't want to spoil my appetite for dinner; there's a promising-looking pizza joint across the street.