Fridays should never be “hurry up and wait” days. They should be sampled at leisure, savored like a fine wine. Our Friday was a touch cumbersome thanks to two appointments separated by a span of several hours.
The morning passed quickly; a check-in that accomplished little except the exchange of niceties between us and our “gent’s” supervisor (as the person we were to have an appointment with was not in today.) We did not know why we were there, the supervisor did not see any notes that would explain why we were schedules, and so we bid farewell to him and meandered our way towards Pittsburgh.
We stopped in Robinson for a bite at the Cracker Barrel (they are one of the few inexpensive places that serve fish without all the dreadfully bulky batter.) I behaved myself and didn’t buy a thing in the lobby.
The morning passed quickly; a check-in that accomplished little except the exchange of niceties between us and our “gent’s” supervisor (as the person we were to have an appointment with was not in today.) We did not know why we were there, the supervisor did not see any notes that would explain why we were schedules, and so we bid farewell to him and meandered our way towards Pittsburgh.
We stopped in Robinson for a bite at the Cracker Barrel (they are one of the few inexpensive places that serve fish without all the dreadfully bulky batter.) I behaved myself and didn’t buy a thing in the lobby.
Our Friday highlight was our stop in Squirrel Hill (a Jewish district in Pittsburgh.) We explored the Murry Street Kosher market for the first time – absolutely fabulous. Better Half and I explored every last nook, our mouths watering over jars and packages of delightful foods. The meat and deli counter were closed for cleaning for the Passover so we did not have a chance to sample anything there. Small signs hung long the shelves or in the coolers proclaiming “not for Passover’ or “ready for Passover”. We stood in line like a couple of starving Gentiles clutching our 12 bagels and a loaf of chalah bread (which, sadly, were ticketed “not for Passover”.)
We arrived at Better Half’s dental appointment ahead of schedule and they brought him back in a timely manner. I was left to my own devices and I trekked to the basement and sat in the garden. It was a little chilly but my eyes find peace in the green ivy and Pachysandra. The cement and pebble benches are beginning to crumble and a blanket of moss grows on the northern side of just about everything in that garden. It’s perfect for meditation.
Pittsburgh is a very warm town. The people are generally benevolent even in rush hour traffic. I occasionally envy Spider and Ox, both of whom grew up here. I also occasionally envy TFMM and his beautiful Toronto. Regardless of those feelings, there is a special joy that I hold in my heart – it bursts forth every time I see my own happy home with the maroon shutters and door, my beautiful maple tree and the large porch that is simply perfect for lazy days. My crocus is in bloom and the birds have returned. We will have deer, fox, rabbits and groundhogs running about at dusk soon.
Like the crocus, I am beginning to awaken from my winter slumber. I am feeling alive again. I only hope that this feeling lasts.
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