At My Kitchen Table: Dining Out
As predicted on Tuesday, I made a chicken salad with the remains of that evening’s roast. We’re going to have it for dinner this evening.
I made it for last night’s dinner, but in the event, we went out. Shortly after I’d finished the salad, while I was reading quietly and resting up from the afternoon in Central Park, Miss G called, delighting and surprising me with the suggestion that, as she and Ryan were bound for Planet Yorkville on a shopping expedition, we might get together. I was only too happy to agree. We sipped wine for an hour at the apartment before heading over to the Panorama Café at nine, where we sat outside in the cool of the evening. If we were to see all the movies and read all the books that were recommended over the course of the evening, we’d be booked for a month.
And why was I in Central Park on a Saturday afternoon? For the same reason I was there the last time: to sit with the blogger bears and watch the skaters. Joe not only invited me but brought along an extra chair. Most of the guys stretched out on blankets, or sat Indian-style. Neither posture is available to me, unfortunately, so I’m either locked in the chair or slipping on the slope. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but I’m sure that people who don’t know me and whom I don’t get to meet think I’m very stiff-necked. I am stiff-necked, but it’s literal, not figurative.
In a most amusing development, Joe has hooked Father T on Ruth Draper’s Doctors and Diets. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.