So schtamtisch (still don't know how to spell it) was Indian food on Sunday. It was also sparsely attended, so the b.h. and I have plenty of leftovers, which is fabulous. I was not very impressed by the wine I brought. Serves me right for picking it for the label. It was Gewurztraminer, which I normally love, but it was from Washington or Oregon or some nonsense. I should have stuck with Alsace. Anyway, D really liked the bottle, and that's who I chose it for, so it wasn't a total loss.
We also had some Lagunitas India Pale Ale, which was hoppy and floral and yummy and a perfect accompaniment to the food. The b.h. and D slaved in the kitchen for hours while S and I flipped through catalogs and watched birds in their yard. The weather was remarkably warm, and we ate on their screened-in porch. A stopped by on his way out of town, grabbed a bite to eat and poured us all a taste of homemade apple brandy he had gotten from a friend. It tasted exactly like you think it would: like an apple soaked in lighter fluid. I took a sip and poured the rest into D's glass. The b.h. did the same.
We got home early and the b.h. passed out on the couch (all that slaving in the kitchen wears a man out), so I poked around on the internets and re-ordered our netflix queue and generally fucked off until I was finally tired as well.
I awoke yesterday to a panicked shout from the kitchen. Kilgore decided to bolt, and the b.h. was scrambling to get some shoes on to go after him. I ran downstairs and threw on some pants and shoes and mismatched socks and jumped into the car. We had no idea which way he had gone, so the b.h. continued to walk while I drove several of our usual walking routes. Had he been in any of the wooded areas I never would have seen him, since his coat would blend right in with the dirt and dead leaves.
Fortunately, Kilgore found whatever it was that he had caught the scent of, and began screaming in the woods behind the house (he had apparently circled around, so we were looking in the wrong direction), and the b.h. came running and found him shrieking and bleeding from his hind foot, and yet looking quite pleased with himself. He must have caught whatever it was, and found that it didn't want to play with him. He was fine but for a couple small bite marks, and as I said, he looked pretty happy.
I dropped the b.h. at work and came back home to do a few things around the house. I swapped a couple e-mails with my buddy MT, and we agreed to meet around noon and hang out. We went to a sandwich shop, then headed over to the giant corporate book store, where they were having a fire sale on CDs and DVDs. MT bought himself a couple, and I got a copy of Joe Strummer's posthumous release with the Mescaleros, which is called Streetcore, and which I am listening to right now. It's lovely.
I also put aside a copy of Season 3 of Anthony Bourdain's show No Reservations, just in case we came up with the money and the b.h. wanted it.
MT and I went over to Big City Bread and had some iced tea and cookies and talked about stuff for awhile. We saw my friend John and his dad, we soaked up some sun and watched some dogs, and eventually wandered back here to sit on the deck.
Eventually the b.h. called needing a ride, and MT had to go to the grocery, so we parted ways.
When the b.h. and I got back to the house, we found in the mail two surprise checks from our cell phone company. Last year when we got our new phones we had put down a deposit on each of them, and since a year is up we got our deposits back. Very exciting. So the b.h. decided that he did indeed want that Anthony Bourdain CD set. We went back to the Giant Corporate Bookstore and got that and two movies for his dad, whose birthday is next week. Excellent. I briefly eyed a copy of The Tick vs. Season Two, but couldn't make myself want it enough to spend the money.
Last night we ate leftovers and watched Milk, which we enjoyed immensely, and a couple episodes of No Reservations, and went to bed fairly early.
Today I woke with considerable less adrenaline than I did yesterday. I got a cup of coffee in the mug that K brought me from NYC, which I love and I need to post photos of), and wandered onto the back deck. There were some very small deer in the woods about thirty yards away, and KG almost ran off yet again, but the b.h. got a hand on him and all was well. There were several deer back there, and they didn't seem bothered by us at all. Nor did the hawk, which I still think is nested somewhere very close to the house, and which was screeching and flapping about around the pond. Our friend the Great Blue Heron ("Big Bird" to us) is also back, and between them and the deer and the turtles and the kingfisher, I remarked to the b.h. that our yard was "like wild fucking kingdom."
I do love the Spring.