Listening (41/365)

Yep, it's just about that time again! (40/365)

Aah, sweet memories of Shrimp Town, thanks to a friend who Fed-Exed this holiday treat!

Patterns (39/365)

Sad Chuisneoir (38/365)

The office fridge bit the dust.

When I came in this morning, I reached into the freezer for the loaf of bread I keep there so that I could make toast.  My nose was greeted by warm, stale air, and my bread was soft.  I looked with panic at the two tubs of ice cream left over from some office function in the early fall, and they were like milk.  (It's really time those were thrown out anyway.)

I think it was a blessing in disguise, as the fridge also contained hummus from July and expired seltzer water.  My coworkers and I dumped out the mayonnaise and the salsa from the recyclable jars and wiped all the shelves clean, and then I took my yogurt and kiwifruit upstairs and settled them between the panes of the hallway window to keep cold in the winter air.

(The title is a pun on a title of an older post.)

Cozy Comfort (37/365)

Lights in Two Restaurants (36/365)

This post only documents half of the restaurants that were graced by my custom today.   The first was a bagel shop, and the last was a global residence of griddle cakes.  In between, my parents and I went to a Chinese restaurant where I had a delectable ration of General Tso's Tofu, and two of my dearest and darlingest friends and I had wine and dessert at a fancy-schmancy wine bar (that used to be a grungy, but legendary, rock-n-roll dive).   Four restaurants in one day.  This is crazy.

Yes, I am looking at you. (35/365)

My brother came to visit me today in the City of Honks (a name he suggested, just for variety.)
The sun was out, and my neighborhood was especially busy today, so we maneuvered through crowds browsing the market tables set up on the sidewalks.  After a tropical lunch of Dominican food (plantains and avocado amid posters for baseball games) we set out to the park.

The wind was much colder in the late afternoon. The sun was just making the edge of the sky blush over the river when we arrived.  We were trying to get to the opposite end of the park, but the paths were closed, and we tramped over the hills instead.  Our feet crunched through the ice, breaking deep into the layers of snow, and our laughter crackled in the air.

We stopped to watch some squirrels eating seed against a stone wall.  They dug their faces into the snow and pranced.  They came up to us, almost sniffing our cuffs.  Then they went back to their seed.

Reading Room (34/365)

Grey and Red (33/365)

Shadows of Tall Trees (32/365)