Feeling: blissfully broke
Listening to: Enigma
Reading/Watching: Dawn's Early Light, by Elswyth Thane

To review:

Fujiya on Saturday night, at which one of my old profs was there doing his annual post-Jazz-Fest take-the-student-helpers-out-to-dinner thing. (My year helping, he chose Thai Kitchen. Mmm, thai tea.) And they sat at the next table over and did not notice us, until his kids (who I have babysat) saw me and said, "Isn't that the lady who sings?" because, you know. St. Moo never had any other vocalists, ever. And it was funny, catching up on the times with chopsticks of sukiyaki halfway to our mouths.

That night we checked into a B&B that one of my friends from the synagogue quartet owns and runs with his wife. Mon coeur and I overslept, and caught the tail end of the "breakfast" part of bed-and-breakfast. But our hostess had a couple belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream left over, so we suffered our way through.

Driving to Market Square (downtown) convinced us that no, Fiesta had not calmed down yet (crazy Schoolville party-drinking-hoopla), so we had lunch at my restaurant instead and went to see The Hoax. Then for the first time in years (literally), my atheist husband (voluntarily) went to church with me, and I tried to keep my excitement under wraps (because that's really not why he should go. Except it is. But it's not. I'm not trying to convert him or anything, it's just lonely going alone). Then it was off to The Melting Pot for dinner, and for all that it costs an arm and a leg, there's something to be said about a place where you can argue over which tasted better: the giant shrimp, the steak, the ahi tuna, or the lobster tail (seriously: the tuna was sushi-grade, so we barely seared it for a couple seconds and ate it raw, dipped in wasabi-honey sauce). It's the kind of place where you can have the epiphany that of all the things you could smother in melted dark chocolate, cold strawberries still beat out marshmallows, cheesecake, angel food, pineapple, bananas, etc etc. Because it's all there.

And, we managed not to overeat, so that after cheese fondue, salads, meat fondue, veggies, and chocolate-smothered-everything, we didn't want to die. Portion control, my friends. Followed by wine in the hotel room, watching episodes of Firefly on my laptop (we're so sexy it hurts), and talking in the dark until one (two?) in the morning.

Not a bad way to celebrate an anniversary. Especially since mon coeur let me have the last glass of the Pecan Mocha wine and that, my friends, is true love.

Today, again with the oversleeping, although we made it over to the main building in time for scrambled eggs and sausage, and I got to chat with John about possibly joining the Schoolville Chamber Choir. Mr. Katie and I went back to our room to pack but decided to delay our check-out time, especially when the rain started coming down hard and sideways, so we stayed in the room, cuddled under the blankets, listening to the rain on the tin roof, watching it through the windows. I dare you not to swoon at the romance.

I surprised my boy with appointments for a full-body massage, one for both of us. I don't know about his, but during mine the masseuse said "Yeah, you know how you were working three jobs? I (pop) don't (pop) think (pop) that was very good for your stress levels." My neck and shoulders were solid with knots. Not good for the Katie. But it's much better now.

After which we decided we'd spent too much money, so came back home to cook a humble dinner of mini-burgers (we had no burger buns, only parker house rolls, so we improvised) and asparagus, which had been hiding since we bought it a week ago (damned crisper drawer and your many secrets!). Overall, good times.

And after much deliberation, we've decided that the marriage was a good idea, so after our one-year trial run, we're full-steam ahead for the next fifty-nine.

Comments? 0 so far...
Not a Diaryland member? Sign the Guestbook.