Skipping Forward.
August 21st, 2005Alex visited yesterday and today while en route to New Jersey while en route to Costa Rica. He arrived just in time for me to’ve recovered from my high school reunion, and he came with, of all things, beer, wine, and trail mix.
Teymour completed his summer role as resident den mother — cooked us dinner, and got silly drunk. To Star Wars Episode VI, of course. It’s just not a Saturday if I’m not having a home-cooked meal and drinks to Star Wars at the Business School, after all. The BBQ pork sandwich was fantastic.
After lapsing into French, and demanding that Tey “�tait certainement ivre,” we headed outside to Weeks bridge with some charcoal, newsprint, and matches. It was windy and we ran out of matches. Soon thereafter we sprinted from, what I believe was, a taxi cab.
This morning, and well into the afternoon, Alex and I helped Teymour pack up and move out. When I returned home, I noticed that Alex had left a boogey board in my room. This may give me sufficient impetus to return to Chatham some weekend to catch the surf.
But this weekend I’m off to western Massachusetts with the family to marvel at the fast planes or whatever it is they have at an air show.
I write, however, not really to mention any of this. Instead, I’d like to speak briefly on cranberries. You see, the trail mix Alex left with me contains lots of cranberries. That’s great. Massachusetts is the cranberry center of the world. Its juice is our state drink [at least according to Ian from Wednesday; but he's a local and locals never lie, at least not to other locals, and certainly not about important matters such as cranberries.]
If only it were Thanksgiving or Christmas, I’d make a mean cranberry chutney right here and now. Until then, I’ll finish off the trail mix before going to the movies with Michelle and Tracy in an attempt to avoid this heat and my math.
