3.18.2013

the ides of march

Acorn caps. They keep showing up in my apartment and on my desk at the office. They're just too pretty not to gather, and so they accumulate. Those and juniper branches, in as many different colors and stages of life as I can find. Also, dried roses.

Armed with full knowledge of St. Patrick's being on a Sunday this year, I took advantage of stretching the festive spirit throughout the entire weekend (it's a little harder to do this when the holiday is on a Friday or Saturday and everyone is finished being cheery before the weekend is half out, so this year is handy). For starters, it was sushi at a place that is halfway to genius. The other half is locked up in some unknown interiour designer's head, just idling. 'Til the elusive aesthetic panache makes its way here, the patio beckons. It sits above the canal, which is perfect, as I am a fan of any sort of aquatic overlook, really. Friday was a good sport and held around eighty degrees until late. I was grateful.

The functioning half of the sushi joint's genius is their creativity in the curation of their menu. I'll tell you about The Volcano (because it's the best one): a sushi roll with deep-fried shrimp, cream cheese, avocado, jalapeno - all topped with a heaping pile of scallops cooked in spicy (Sriracha) sauce and scallions. I seem to remember some lovely roe as well, but don't recall which kind. This roll was the entire purpose of the outing, initially.

Liverpool Rummy and a home-cooked meal which included a lively fruit salad were to be had at the in-laws' place. We played 'til late. Very late. Both games I lost horrifically. It was actually difficult not to be angry. Something odd.

The next morning, we had lots of tea for breakfast. Mum wasn't feeling well, so we curled up in blankets on the sofa by a dark fireplace and talked about other lives we may have lived before, and about a small boy who spoke in vivid detail about dying in a dogfight in WWII. We spoke of this over pizza, which was like elevenses.

I wore all black that day, that Sunday. Cat burglar costume, sans mask, with soft, snug, black jersey from top to toe. A kelly green sweater cardigan came out later, with orange button-thread. I did not get pinched.

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