TO KNOW ME IS TO LOVE ME

     As H made a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast I sat on the deck drinking coffee out of a handleless porcelain tea cup.  Having the same breakfast you would have in the city but made on one of those white 90’s electric stoves in a well seasoned cast iron pan and served on the plates you had eaten off when you were a kid somehow makes something as simple as scrambled eggs taste amazing.       I could see the water through the trees, the strong morning wind making a rough impression on its surface. It would be a great day for sailing. 10:30 am      We went out to buy materials for dinner. Windows down, sunroof open. H was driving fast testing the turbo of his Volvo sedan on the straight away of an empty country road. We blasted  Bizarre Love Triangle . I imagined being in a shiny convertible sports car: red, something Italian. Driving in the 80’s, hair flying back with the wind, and hearing this song over the radio. We sa...

     I regretted staying out as late as I had the night before. On my parents last night in the city, we had an incredible time at my usual omakase spot. Drinking sake and Sapporo and, at least on my part, enjoying the reactions of my mother trying three different types of Mackerel sushi after speaking at length of her distaste for the fish. Afterwards going to Commerce for another round of drinks. It was the perfect set up: we walked in and were greeted by the regular suspects and sat at the largest table within the bar which had been left unfilled despite the crowded Friday night room; as if they had been waiting for us. I introduced my parents to the friendlies that came up to our table and with great spirits we drank and laughed and I told my tales of Antigua. But I had other plans, so around 10 I said goodnight and goodbye and went home to change.      Turns out making plans to have a crazy fun night never sets you up to have one. This morning I got up...