Like the churn of the sea in your wake
The snow that was falling this morning did not stick, but I loved seeing it drift through the streetlight. I would like more. We had a quiet day and took the car out in the evening to collect a conveyor-belt quantity of sashimi and maki from Mr. Sushi in Arlington Center.

We took our traditional facing portraits.

In this case of me with dessert on the couch afterward.

Hestia claimed the table in the name of all cats who have not been allowed to drink miso soup.
I had not eaten so much sushi in literally years. There was much eel and avocado and yellowtail and salmon and tuna which I like only when I can get it raw and because the restaurant had run out of red bean mochi, we got mango mochi for dessert which I had not enjoyed recently, either.
spatch observed after dinner that our liquor cabinet was celebrating its own first anniversary, having started with his last year's gift to me of Medford rum, and mixed me a nameless cocktail with some of the last of said rum and cranberry liqueur and traces of apple brandy and orange bitters, which we should name after something rustically Massachusetts. Death on the Diamond (1934) is such an early post-Code that the first thing that comes up onscreen is a certificate advertising its approval by the Production Code Administration of the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America, but it is otherwise indistinguishable from any of the charmingly rackety B-pictures of earlier in its year when it crowbars a murder plot into the age-old race to the pennant to save the home team, which in this case is the real-life St. Louis Cardinals with an assortment of Hollywood ringers. I believe it to mark the youngest I have seen Robert Young, here the rookie star pitcher who in one of his cutest scenes is very seriously trying to work out a quirk in his windup caught by a profile photo. I am so accustomed to Paul Kelly as a noir silver fox, I was delighted by him as the classically brash redheaded reporter who always has to get the last word. Hestia napped on me as we watched Torn Curtain (1966), speaking of deliberately unromanticized violence. I am tired of so much exhaustion. The days are real and we are real in them.

We took our traditional facing portraits.

In this case of me with dessert on the couch afterward.

Hestia claimed the table in the name of all cats who have not been allowed to drink miso soup.
I had not eaten so much sushi in literally years. There was much eel and avocado and yellowtail and salmon and tuna which I like only when I can get it raw and because the restaurant had run out of red bean mochi, we got mango mochi for dessert which I had not enjoyed recently, either.

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The facing portraits are very good this year. Thank you.
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Hooray Sushi! And portraits and Kitty!
Call that cocktail the Auburn?
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A ferocious heroine!
I love the facing portraits: so much personality! Whenever my parents go on holiday they take photos of each other, over the table with a drink in hand, and they're lovely. I should try it with friends, maybe.
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First snowfalls, when they make it to the ground, have that slightly amateurish quality where you can still see individual blades of grass sticking up through a couple of inches of white. Ours will probably melt on the weekend.
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Hestia looks miffed about the miso soup deprivation.
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David and I always have sushi for our anniversary. This evolved gradually, but remains satisfactory, even if I feel it is too cold outside for sushi (nobody thinks this makes any sense), because there is always tempura udon. I also note that your restaurant has COD KATSU and I am agog.
P.
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I am glad you had a nice meal, and the portraits, human and feline, all came out very well! ♥
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I like that! Thank you!
Always hurrah the cat.
*hugs*
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Much turkey was shared post-Thanksgiving!
The facing portraits are very good this year. Thank you.
*hugs*
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Our sharp-clawed hearth-defender!
I love the facing portraits: so much personality! Whenever my parents go on holiday they take photos of each other, over the table with a drink in hand, and they're lovely. I should try it with friends, maybe.
Thank you! I love that your parents have that tradition. I see no reason not to adopt it with friends.
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It built up on the cars on our street while it was falling, but not the ground. There's still some of it clinging to the lawns in my parents' neighborhood. I just want more of it. I happen to like winter.
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It is best! I miss my life being such that I could have it often.
Hestia looks miffed about the miso soup deprivation.
We weren't even sure she could digest it! Neither she nor her brother have ever really responded to this argument.
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Thank you!
*hugs*
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Thank you! "Black cats, best cats" is one of the mottos of this household.
David and I always have sushi for our anniversary. This evolved gradually, but remains satisfactory, even if I feel it is too cold outside for sushi (nobody thinks this makes any sense), because there is always tempura udon. I also note that your restaurant has COD KATSU and I am agog.
I love that you have anniversary sushi. Tempura udon is indeed always delicious, especially if the tempura is shrimp.
If we try the cod katsu, we will report back.
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It was good!