Gratitude in Spades

How fortunate am I? Let me tell you.

So Friday night was a bummer. Monkey brain took over, Macy and I took off for a walk after work. On the way home, we passed by Jane and Paul's house and Jane was in the yard and Macy HAD to see Maggie. I was feeling less than stellar, and those of you who know me best know my face is like a billboard to my inner self. Long story short, the dogs played, Jane and I talked, Jane invited me to share pizza for supper. I said thanks, but I was not hungry (uh, pizza is like one of my favourite things, so you know I was feeling blue). Then, Macy and I went home and I thought "you know, this is stupid. Call Jane". I did and as it turns out the menu was changed to Rotten Ronnie's and a quarter pounder sans cheese sounded pretty damn good. After dinner I received a lesson in philately, and went home feeling pretty good.

Then on Saturday morning, I got an email inviting me to join Dawn and Jane for dinner at Tempest that night. This was a good thing. The appetizers were amazing. I had a warm salad of artichoke hearts, chick peas and shrimp with a flavour that is difficult to describe; Jane choose the calamari; Dawn the scallops. We also shared a bowl of mussels. Our server Sarah suggested pairing the starters with a white wine (Becca? Was that the name of it?) that was perfect. The main didn't excite me as much as the lamb was overcooked and the side was an interesting but not so palatable pearl couscous with a fig sauce. However, the service was excellent, the surroundings quite nice and of course the company was delightful. Four hours later, we were the last table to leave.

Sunday was a scheduled walk with Jane and Maggie at the Station. It got me showered and out of the house. A great thing and a good way to get perspective. I took these pics of Jane et al. The rest of Sunday was spent in the yard raking and uncovering green things and pruning and pitching poo.

So, you ask again, how fortunate am I? Mega. And I think you can figure out why.

Thank you, neighbour.