a visit

The Bistro had a visit from Carol Gray Friday night. I know it as surely as I know Lilly, her cat now mine, is purring beside me as I write this.

We had a dinner guest coming at 6:30, around the same time W would arrive, stopping after work to pick up the menu’s much needed jalapeno and a handful of cilantro.

I stepped outside to move the several cat dishes which the wind had blown and I knew would be in the car’s path to the garage. Walking back I noticed the two garden features which are staked iron structures, each with a glass globe, one set in a sun and the other in a moon. They are tucked in the bed of ivy which runs up the gigantic elm tree. Keeping them straight is a cherished chore.

They are solar but in the six years that this has been their home, they have never activated to light up the globes. Until Friday night.

We call them Carol’s because of their past proximity to her house. When W was house-hunting, she fell in love with a townhome in the neighborhood, one street behind Carol’s. Sadly, she lost her higher bid to a cash sale, but for fun we went to the estate sale which followed and I purchased a few things, the sun & moon being a pair. If W had gotten the house, I’d have returned them to their garden spot.

Stopped dead in the driveway, I could not believe what I was seeing; one of the stakes was blinking color: green, orange, blue…

I thought W had probably tinkered with them; she does such things as little surprises to bring me joy. Not moving an inch, I texted her, but the very second I sent my message I knew it was not W’s doing. Carol was reaching out.

I’m accustomed to signs. I have received so many. I trust in them. I have no doubts. Carol was here!

I’m especially sure of it because after the many years being totally lightless, a globe shines brightly on the very night that Carol’s daughter from NYC has been invited to dinner.

She and W arrived at the same time. The three of us stood in awe watching the globe through watery eyes, putting on a show for us, this first and only night of all nights.

the first note

Christmas cheer arrived last night, as it will a few more times before this next December.

W and I chose, this past holiday, to give each other two gifts each. They could be nothing tangible, nothing which could be wrapped up prettily in any box. They were to be experiences. Surprise experiences!

Maybe a pottery class or a decadent lobster lunch spread out in one of our many preferred spaces at the arboretum. Perhaps a concert or spontaneously venturing to a restaurant that's been on our lusting-after-list for too long. Skateboarding on a half pipe at the park? Okay, probably not...

Friday night was the first, a concert gifted to me: Jazz at Lincoln Center Presents - Sing & Swing. 

The night was Spoke's birthday and I learned as we were heading out the door, also the birthday of W's very beloved aunt. I've only met this lady once but the stories W has shared have endeared Aunt Rozemma to me in ways she will never know. Obviously the shared birthday coincidence (or not) was a bittersweet start to the next few hours. 

We planned our tradition of dash-gating; wine and a light meal in the car before the show. Anticipation being such a pleasure, we rarely omit this pause of ours.

The band was comprised of two leaders, a male and a female, both on trumpets and vocals. The other musicians played piano, guitar, double bass, and drums, and yes, wow, could they play. I expected as much coming out of Lincoln Center but I wasn't expecting the fierceness of the emotional tides that rose and quieted in me throughout the show. I was hiding tears in the first introductory minutes.

There is no quick or rational way to try to explain the why of it to most anyone reading this, but for my family tuned in, whether your feet are on this Earth or not, your presence with me was laid out so clearly in the evening's words as they unfolded: Coker, Anita O'Day, Gene Krupa, Sarah Vaughan, Louis Prima, Billie. Specific stories and memories close to my heart are attached to each of these.

The singers gave us historical context for the greats like Gershwin, Cole Porter, Irving Berlin, Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong. As promised, they gave us the Great American Songbook in a wonderfully creative way. We all applauded on our feet and hoped for more after the grandest, swinging finale encore.

W gave me a gift beyond her vision, but having myself a merry little Christmas was indeed how it felt this February night. 

Dash-gating Pasta Salad: penne rinsed, canned albacore drained and flaked, seared fresh corn, scallion, peppadews, homemade sweet-n-sour cucumbers, french-style green beans, mayo, grain mustard, s&p, fresh cilantro.