Music and CatsSunday, December 12, 2004
The Sunday afternoon thing
I had finished making the cranberry orange cherry and almond conserve. Paul had gone out shopping, so I had the house to myself. I should rephrase; I was the only human in the house, and, as the cats were napping, the only creature stirring. I'd dragged some Christmas decorations up from the basement, and was considering which ones might possibly be catproof. While doing said considering, I was checking my email, and reading a few blogs.
The phone rang. It was Nina, calling to suggest an outing to pick up my CSA veggies at the Ballard farmers' market and do a little Christmas shopping in our neighborhood. (While we've met for coffee on Sunday afternoons several times this fall, this was the first impromptu get-together, and the second meeting in as many Sundays. It's become "the Sunday afternoon thing," a regular part of my social life, rather than an experimental meeting with someone whose blog I read. Who knew that blogging would have such lovely side effects?)
A short while later, we were at the market, where I filled my canvas bag with beet greens, broccoli, carrots, celeriac, garlic, potatoes, and kabocha squash. Fortunately, the pie vendor from last week was not there today, so Nina and I escaped having done considerably less damage than we did last Sunday.
We did, however, spend a few minutes with Sam, a beautiful, very friendly green eclectus parrot, and his person, whose name we never learned. I don't think I'd ever seen an eclectus, and I'd never before been so taken with a bird. The feeling was apparently mutual; Sam walked up my arm onto my shoulder, and leaned in for a kiss. Had I not closed my mouth, I would've been French kissed. While the attraction was mutual, it apparently was not exclusive on Sam's part; his person laughed, called him "Sammy the Seducer," and allowed as how Sam really likes women.
Leaving the market, we crossed the street to the little neighborhood children's store, which was filled with lovely wooden toys, cute kids' clothes, and very little plastic. Nina found a couple of Christmas presents for her kidlet, and I found something for wundernephew Max. I saw a red Che Guevara onesie that I thought would be perfect for the new son of some leftie friends; sadly they did not have it in 6-9 month size. We headed back to our side of town, where Nina, corrupting influence that she is, introduced me to two very dangerous stores,PAPER space and Monkey Love Rubber Stamps. I am often powerless in the presence of really nice paper products, but as I have no need for beautiful letterpress invitations or more Christmas cards to add to my existing unsent stock, I managed to escape from PAPER space unscathed. I was not so lucky at Monkey Love, where I decided that a few holiday-themed stamps were in order.
Declaring shopping to be finished for the day, we proceeded to Uptown Espresso (Home of the Velvet Foam), because it wouldn't be the Sunday afternoon thing with Nina without coffee drinks and lots of good conversation.
The phone rang. It was Nina, calling to suggest an outing to pick up my CSA veggies at the Ballard farmers' market and do a little Christmas shopping in our neighborhood. (While we've met for coffee on Sunday afternoons several times this fall, this was the first impromptu get-together, and the second meeting in as many Sundays. It's become "the Sunday afternoon thing," a regular part of my social life, rather than an experimental meeting with someone whose blog I read. Who knew that blogging would have such lovely side effects?)
A short while later, we were at the market, where I filled my canvas bag with beet greens, broccoli, carrots, celeriac, garlic, potatoes, and kabocha squash. Fortunately, the pie vendor from last week was not there today, so Nina and I escaped having done considerably less damage than we did last Sunday.
We did, however, spend a few minutes with Sam, a beautiful, very friendly green eclectus parrot, and his person, whose name we never learned. I don't think I'd ever seen an eclectus, and I'd never before been so taken with a bird. The feeling was apparently mutual; Sam walked up my arm onto my shoulder, and leaned in for a kiss. Had I not closed my mouth, I would've been French kissed. While the attraction was mutual, it apparently was not exclusive on Sam's part; his person laughed, called him "Sammy the Seducer," and allowed as how Sam really likes women.
Leaving the market, we crossed the street to the little neighborhood children's store, which was filled with lovely wooden toys, cute kids' clothes, and very little plastic. Nina found a couple of Christmas presents for her kidlet, and I found something for wundernephew Max. I saw a red Che Guevara onesie that I thought would be perfect for the new son of some leftie friends; sadly they did not have it in 6-9 month size. We headed back to our side of town, where Nina, corrupting influence that she is, introduced me to two very dangerous stores,
Declaring shopping to be finished for the day, we proceeded to Uptown Espresso (Home of the Velvet Foam), because it wouldn't be the Sunday afternoon thing with Nina without coffee drinks and lots of good conversation.
