Friday, December 15, 2006
A happy birthday to the uncle who used to take me fishing
... and who shares a birthday with his nibs.
We celebrated with a wild night ... home.
Baked kabocha squash filled with butter/brown sugar/nutmeg.
Spiced lamb sausages from Little City Meats on Stockton with grilled onions, egg noodles.
Dessert was (for the birthday boy -- by request) baked Granny Smith apple stuffed with butter/brown sugar/nutmeg, served warm with French vanilla ice cream and (for moi) French vanilla ice cream with a splash of (non-vintage ... not the Dow '83 sitting on the kitchen counter! not the Dow '83!) port.
Ym.
We had a very nice birthday.
We hope the uncle who used to take me fishing (and his paramour) did as well.
posted by Sal Towse at 10:03 PM|
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We celebrated with a wild night ... home.
Baked kabocha squash filled with butter/brown sugar/nutmeg.
Spiced lamb sausages from Little City Meats on Stockton with grilled onions, egg noodles.
Dessert was (for the birthday boy -- by request) baked Granny Smith apple stuffed with butter/brown sugar/nutmeg, served warm with French vanilla ice cream and (for moi) French vanilla ice cream with a splash of (non-vintage ... not the Dow '83 sitting on the kitchen counter! not the Dow '83!) port.
Ym.
We had a very nice birthday.
We hope the uncle who used to take me fishing (and his paramour) did as well.
posted by Sal Towse at 10:03 PM|
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: views from the Hill
Bertold Brecht:
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
But what has happened has happened. And the water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again.
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
But what has happened has happened. And the water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again.
