Monday

An unusual day in an unusual month in, I'm hoping, not too an unusual a year.

Because Snowdrop has appointments later today, I'm not scheduled to care for her. Faced with a day that hasn't structure, I suggest to Ed we make it a date day.

Breakfast first. (And this is almost the last photo I take on this unusual day.)





And in the afternoon, we do all that we love to do together on a cold but snowless winter day. First, we bowl. I'm not great or even good, but we have great fun competing and lifting and running and  hurling and encouraging each other through each miserable or successful roll. Ninety minutes well spent.

Next, we take in an early movie. We do not go to movies much: I pick up many handfuls of new releases on my long distance flights and the rest we rent from the library. But occasionally there comes along a movie that I am anxious to see on the big screen.  La La Land is just such a film.

Our local movie house has long ago transformed the screening rooms to make them tiered and more comfortable. But in the last year, three things seem to have changed: first of all, the ticket agent gives us one glance and then produces two discounted senior tickets. Clearly the visuals tell him we are in that category.

Secondly, the screening rooms have been completely transformed and upgraded once more. Every chair now is so large that it beats first class airplane seating. And the chairs can be adjusted to a nearly complete reclining position. How much comfort do we need, we spoiled people?!

Finally, the noise level at the time of previews (all horrific and violent) and commercials is deafening. I was concerned that we would not be able to sit through a movie if the sound was to be this loud.

But the sound during the film itself is just right. And the music is exquisite! And yes, I can see the story analogy to the Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Truly a beautiful film of sweet reminders how small moves and just a few words can push us to act in ways that have lasting consequences.

When we leave the movie, we see the snow -- not more than an inch, nothing you could ski on, but just enough to make it a pretty world once more.

Our final date day moments are at Brasserie V -- a restaurant where we sit at the bar, eat mussels and fries and enjoy the pleasure of getting food that is always the same for us, always good, always deeply satisfying. (A selfie.)






One gets sentimental on nights like this. Life is complicated and requires some fine stepping and herculean efforts to keep one's spirits at a steady keel. Yet when you have days that offer so much gentle kindness, coupled with sweet sentimentality, it gives you reserves for future knocks and bruises.

Our date day gave me, gave us plenty of reserves.

The farmhouse shines brightly for us as we return home.