More concerts followed the Afghan-American extravaganza. Friday night the Walker Creek Band from Gloucester celebrated its 30th anniversary with oldies that connected all the baby-boomers in the room, now balding and grey, with their naughty, wild and irresponsible past. A video played in the back showing the same line up as the one in front of us, just 30 years younger. So much has happened since to all of us. But one thing had not changed – people danced with the abandon of twenty- and thirty-somethings.I had put on my orthopedic boot which makes for great pivoting and provides some protection. However, it also activates the neural problems in the other foot. Still I danced, albeit with less abandon.
On Saturday, before going to yet another concert (a snowstorm-delayed performance of local talent singing love songs and reading love letters penned by famous people long gone, and accompanied by desserts), I tried my hand at sushi again, after 7 years or so. We have, not far from us, a fish market that caters to the needs of people who love raw fish, fish eggs, and seaweed. We also discovered that the short shrimp season is not quite over. Enormous piles of the tiny shrimp were available in five or 10 pound bags. We took some home for lunch and then ate some of them raw and others cooked.
We brought the raw shrimp, the scallop carpaccio and some irregular shaped maki rolls to a friend’s birthday celebration and renewed acquaintances with people only vaguely remembered from earlier meals taken together.
Sunday another snowstorm hit us, one that appeared to hit only the coastal areas. And so we stayed once more in our pajamas all day, watching the snow swirl and drift outside, keeping the home fires burning and working ourselves through the Sunday NYTimes.
Sylvia's Journal 
Recent Comments