I Can't Believe It Either But...

... I had a beer tonight.  Really.  Anyone who knows me knows that I don't drink.  I don't have a problem with it, I'm just not good at it.  I'll have a few sips of wine at the holidays but I don't have a head for spirits so I usually abstain.  I invited a friend over for supper tonight and asked DS if I could pick up a little of Zambaldi Brewing's Good Dog Porter to serve so he gave me a little metal growler of beer to serve my friend.  It seemed unfriendly to make her drink alone so I poured myself about half a glass.  And I finished it.  I can't believe it; I drank a beer.  At least it was good beer, not that yukky stuff that you can buy by the case at any store or gas station.  My little glass of Good Dog Porter went very well with the strong flavors of the Cobb Salad we had for supper.  I can't believe that I drank a beer.  What is this world coming to? 



Today would have been Durwood's 80th birthday so I made sure that I had a full calendar but really it was an okay day.  I wasn't particularly sad, well, not any sadder than usual and probably less sad than I've been lately.  I had lunch with a few of the St. Agnes Class of 1965, I got to pick up LC from day care, take her to tennis lessons, and take her home (all in driving rain and wind), and then entertain a long-time friend for supper.  All in all, a good day.



 
This next section of tonight's post could be titled "The Flowers that Bloom in August" because I walked around the yard with my new camera this morning and took lots of flower pictures.



The Stargazer Lilies are so pretty and right next to them are two huge nettles.  I'm still working up the guts to get in there and yank them out.





I planted a bunch of Butterfly Weed and this is the only plant that made it.  *sigh*





My little Black-eyed Susans are blooming.  LMC, my writer and flower friend in Cottage Grove has Green-eyed Susans in her garden.  I'm going to have to see if I can't find some for my retaining wall project.



The Daisies and Bee Balm are still hanging on, luring butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds to my yard.  Good job, flowers.






And the few Milkweeds that survived are doing their part by opening their very fragrant flowers so that the Monarchs have a place to lay their eggs.  (look at that sharp focus, oh, I love a camera with good glass)


05 August--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

             Date number two was set.  Abel wanted us to see a movie together and I thought I would be able sit for a couple hours in the dark next to him and not be consumed with, well, whatever it is I've been consumed with the last few times we've been together.  At least I knew how to dress for the movies, a pair of nice pants, or better yet jeans, a blouse--a red one to light up my eyes, and a sweater in case it's cold in the theater.

Abel picked me up around six and I was surprised that he was in jeans too.  “What movie are you taking me to?” I asked.

He laughed.  “If I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?"

Not very patient, I don't like waiting for things.  “Well, what kind of movie is it?  Romance?  Adventure?  I hope it’s not some violent thing with a lot of car crashes and explosions.  I don’t like those.”

“I’m not telling.  You'll have to be patient."  Abel drove into Simpson but not toward the new big multiplex behind the mall.  Instead he took us to the center of the city to a neighborhood that was enjoying a renewal.  Old businesses and buildings that had been vacant for years were being refurbished and reopened as boutiques, gift shops, and cafes.  I'd forgotten that there was a movie theater in the district that showed art films, not mainstream movies.  And that's where we stopped.

I looked at the marquee to see they were showing an Italian film.  “Do you understand Italian, Abel?" I asked as he opened the truck door for me.

“Nope," he said, smiling.

“So how are we supposed to know what they're saying?"

A grin spread across his face.  “Ever hear of subtitles?"

I was astounded.  “You mean we'll have to read the movie?  How can we concentrate on the action if we're busy reading instead of listening?"

“I think you might be surprised."  And he grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the theater door, just like a kid dragging his mom into a county fair.

            We stood in line with college kids and couples in their early thirties waiting to buy tickets.  The old theater had been cleaned and the beautiful original decor refurbished.  It looked pretty good, better than the spaceship designs of new theaters, kind of like the movie palaces I remembered as a child.  Black and white glamour shots of old movie stars graced the walls and the smell of buttered popcorn hadn’t changed.  I could feel Abel’s warm hand on the small of my back as he guided me past the ticket-taker and into the line at the concession stand.  At first all I saw were the cases filled with overpriced boxes of candy: Milk Duds, Good ‘n Plentys, Mike & Ikes, red licorice whips, Dots, all the things that are so much fun to eat and are bad for you.  The top shelf held beautiful pastries displayed on plates with paper doilies.  And right next to that case was a bar.  I’d never imagined a movie theater would sell liquor.

            We moved toward the front, debating the merits of having traditional movie fare or trying something new.  Abel was in favor of candy, popcorn, and soda.

“What do you think, Gail?  Should we go for the upscale calories with a drink or stick with tradition and have popcorn?”

            I looked at Abel and saw the twinkle in his eye.  “Oh, you mean I can’t have both?”  I leaned more toward popcorn and a drink, a real alcoholic drink; I figured since he picked a foreign film, something I’d never experienced, I might as well go all the way over the edge.

            “That’s my girl.  Sure you can.”

            We decided on the biggest tub of popcorn they had, with extra butter of course, and a nice bottle of wine to share.  Abel said it wouldn’t be the movies without Milk Duds and Dots so he bought those too.

            The Velcro sound of our shoes on the theater floor as we looked for seats was the only familiar aspect of this date so far.  We managed to snag one of the little bistro tables off to the side of the regular rows of seats, which I thought was a wonderful idea.  It made it so much easier to pour the wine and juggle our embarrassment of snacks.

            At first I put my box of Milk Duds aside but realized that Abel was right, it wasn’t a movie without candy.  I found the little finger notch and opened the box.  I could feel Abel watching me open it.

"What?" I said.

"Are you one of those people who carefully peels the tape off Christmas wrap too?"

"No, I rip away just like a kid.  My sister Lydie is the careful unwrapper."

"So why go to the trouble to find the notch to open the box instead of just ripping off the top?"

I had to think for a minute, but then I said, "So I can fool myself into thinking I will re-close the box in case I don't eat them all in one sitting.  Something I have never been able to do."

Both of us burst out laughing and were shushed by those seated around us.  We looked around guiltily but, since the movie hadn't started, couldn't figure out why.  Abel leaned and whispered in my ear, “Must be hall monitors all grown up,” which produced a new round of smothered giggles.

I need to wrap this up.  I'm going to have an assistant tomorrow so I need as much sleep as I can get before spending the day entertaining the whirlwind.  Hasta la vista, babies.
--Barbara