Eileen had a lot of schoolwork to do yesterday, so she ended up cleaning out the fireproof file cabinet to procrastinate. In the process, she came across some savings bonds that I had been given by my grandparents throughout my childhood. The oldest one was from 1974 and the most recent was from 1986.

I had gotten them assessed about 10 years ago, at which time the banker told me they wouldn’t accrue much more interest and I should just redeem them. But for some reason, I put it off.

And it’s a good thing I did. They gained a total of $500 more interest, coming to approximately $1800 in all!

Looks like Timmas isn’t over.

Just yesterday morning, I was drueling over a Phonak racing jersey I saw in Budget Bikes. I might have to make it mine. Of course, I still have trouble justifying extravagant purchases, especially since I married the frugal muse, so I’m not sure if I’ll actually be able to buy it without “the buyer’s remorse.”

And we now find out a week late that Floyd Landis tested positive for doping on the day of his big breakaway.

So I may have to go for the xbox360 instead. I’ve been putting off that purchase for some time now. But just in case anyone out there was procrastinating on getting me a birthday present. Timmas lives!

Last night, we ordered pizza from Glass Nickel. Eileen called it in; when they asked for a name, she said, “It will be Tim,” cuz I’m always the one who goes to pick it up.

So I went there and said, “I’m here to pick up some pizzas for Tim.”

The cashier touched the computer screen a few times and looked confused. “Who’s it for?”

“Tim?” I said, hoping that my inquisitive tone would also connote what I was thinking: Is there a problem?

“Um. . . I’ve got a Teresa, a Bob, and a Bible?”

“Bible?!”

She laughed. I laughed. She went over to another guy and brought him back to the cashier. He had long, straight, black hair, and he was wearing a tennis-player-style head band pulled over his hair like Richie Tenenbaum. He looked stoned.

“Did you take this order?” she said.

I only heard him say, “uh.”

She turned the screen toward me. “Are you sure you’re not Bob?” she asked.

I laughed.

“What did you order?”

“Um, a deluxe and a fetalicious.”

She touched the screen a few times. “Was it a deluxe with no cheese?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Well then, this has got to be you.”

“Yeah. Not a common combination to have a cheeseless pizza and a fetalicious in the same order, eh?”

She smiled. “Looks like you were Teresa.”

“Really?” I said. “I was hoping I’d be Bible.”

On Sunday, I went on a 100+ mile bike ride with some guys. When we got into Lodi — about 80 miles into the trip — we stopped at a Piggly Wiggly, and one of the guys got a ham sandwich with mustard and mayo. It sounded disgusting.

But it looked kinda good. He asked if I wanted a bite and I said sure and holy cow! It was excellent.

I held off on purchasing one right there. Based on all my previous athletic experience, it just didn’t make sense that a ham sandwich could be consumed at that stage of a workout. But when I got home, I went to the store and got some ham!

Earlier in the summer, when I was visiting my sister and her new restaurant in Milwaukee, I had a Chicago-style hot dog (hold the relish) — not a food I normally go for much. It was my brother’s idea. It They (I had two) were wonderful. In fact, I had another one for the road later that day.

And then the next time I was in Milwaukee, I had a hot dog.

The summer progressed, we went up to Door County, and wouldn’t you know it: there was a bakery/deli that served Chicago-style dogs. Of course, since every third person up there is a FIB, I should have been able to guess that they would have Chicago-stlye hot dogs.

A few days later, after we had gotten back to Madison, I got the craving again. There used to be a hot dog place on Regent called Dog Eat Dog. And there was another hot dog place somewhere up on the capitol square. But I knew Dog Eat Dog went out of business, and I suspected the other place had also. I vaguely remembered seeing a hot dog place just a couple months ago, and I had read about a guy with a cart who sold hot dogs on Williamson Street, so I decided to go out for a mid-day drive and track down a dog.

I took my own dog with me; together we drove out to Willy Street, then back up to the capitol — all to no avail. So I gave up.

But then today, after that whole ham sandwich incident, I got inspired to search again. I actually found a forum which discussed hot dog places in Madison! And then I found a site called hotdogchicagostyle.com. I’m not kidding. It rates all the places in Madison that serve Chicago-style hot dogs.

Apparently, one of the best in town is in Home Depot. Yuck!

Needless to say, I’ll be trying it.

This past Thursday, I went out for a run. On the way home, I passed a lemonade stand. There was a huge team out there — at least five kids, maybe more. They had a sign that said “Lemonade $4.”

I told you these kids were relentless. Four dollars!? That’s insane.

As I was approaching, I heard them shouting to anyone who would listen, “Lemonade and Rice Krispie treats!” As I went running by, they targeted me with their pitch. All five of them.

“Lemonade!”

“Lemonade and Rice Krispie treats!”

“Lemonade!”

“Money goes to the tsunami victims!”

I turned my head at this last one. I thought, Wait, what? Are you serious?

I shouted, “I don’t have money. I’ll come back.”

They responded, “Okay!”

When I got home, I told Eileen about it. We leashed up the dog, grabbed 8 dollars (!) and walked down Kendall Ave. to the stand, which was about 7 blocks from our house. When we got to the corner of Kendall and Allen, about 3 blocks from our house, we were met by 4 kids who really wanted to pet Tember. We smiled as they gushed over her and then they said, “we have a lemonade stand over there.” Relentless, I tell you.

We let Tember off the leash and she walked/jogged with the kids until we called her back. We would then allow her to run up to the kids, who were a good 30 yards ahead of us. When we finally arrived at the stand, one of the boys was bragging about how cheap the lemonade powder mix was. I asked how much the lemonade was.

“Twenty five cents.”

And the rice krispie treats?

“Fifty cents.”

I checked the sign. It still said $4. I said, “Okay, we’ll take two lemonades and two rice krispie treats.” They poured our drinks while a little girl asked if Tember would bite. Eileen said, “no, but sometimes she licks people.”

The little girl giggled and said, “yeah, she just licked me.”

I gave the “cashier” two dollars. She said thanks. I waited. By my calculations, I had 50 cents coming.

A little boy whispered, “Did they pay us?”

The cashier showed no signs of knowing that she owed us 50 cents. On the one hand, you want to teach a lesson in good business — i.e. don’t cheat people out of their money. On the other hand, you’re a jackass to demand 50 cents from some kids who are donating the money to the tsunami victims.

We left. They all said bye to Tember.