Communal supper
This was a day to eat elsewhere. I mean, we did minor collations in the morning, but we were aligned on the supper moment. A family celebration, where you salute the passage to “a year older” with someone who didn’t count the years. Too busy with real life. Career, kids, all the attached moments. And so we took the multiple vehicles to a small restauarnt owned by someone from abother limb of my extended tree.
And we ate well, without great ceremony. And then I picked up my pieces and headed to the parking area. No keys, so I chose a comfortable bumper and waited for the other to reappear.The details? My meal? Chowder. A club. Apple juice. No engraved ceremonial menu.
We did see a young, black (silver) fox, sitting by the road. Proof that another group is continuing their u
The Pope is in the country, and I imagine the traffic jams are over the top. Too hot for this sort of ceremony. Send a postcard. Maybe money. Wii he notcie that I am not there? I know his name, but I doubt that he would know mine. Separate realities.
One moment. A water pause. Blathering makes me thirsty. I keep a rotating bottle of bubbly tap water for moments like this. No Perrier here.
Also, we mow realized that taking family pictures is something we do as an afterthought. If people are missing, we can add then as stick figures in the corners. And promise to do better, the next time around. We won’t but the promise will stand in stead.
