The catastrophic hood failure has been repaired, and the Knot Hole has tacos on the menu. Mother Rye apologized for last week's inconvenience, then proceeded to blame various members of her staff and family for not keeping us informed. Perhaps we won't develop an alternate taco plan after all.
Should be a lovely evening; the setting crescent moon, the trails sparkling with frost, and the aroma of garlicky grease wafting through the air.
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