I play bridge. Badly, but yes. I don’t drink Harvey Wallbangers and eat devilled eggs while I do it, but I play bridge.
I am getting better. I don’t overtrump my partner nearly as much as I once did. And I’m even getting good at counting trump. I’m still a pretty conservative bidder. In the above hand, my partner and I did end up in spades, but we didn’t bid high enough to win a game. Rookie timidity.
I’m starting to suspect that the trees of Rochester will remain grey-brown twigs forever.
–lori
My only tradition for Easter Sunday is to make a rogan josh, and this year I found this particularly tasty recipe.
Happy Curry Day!
–lori
It looks like they lopped off somebody’s arm and stuck it between two slices of toasted rye.
—Mr Goddess, upon delivery of my pastrami sandwich at Maxie’s Deli in Times Square.
I think I’ve slipped into a meat coma.
—Me, upon finishing my pastrami sandwich.
–lori
“Some day my Spring will come…”
I’m cheating somewhat. That photo is from last Sunday, and as of today the snow has all melted and the first snowdrops have started to bloom.
It finally feels like Spring is in the air, and Rochester sure could use it. It hasn’t risen much above 20 degrees since Christmas. Monday was so cold, it was actually making me angry.
–lori.
