Highlights of 32nd Wedding Anniversary

  1. Showdown in the morning with a turkey hen and her seven “turkettes.” One of the mindless chicks ran the wrong way and Ma made it clear she wasn’t going to move an inch until the little one got back to her. She made some “come here” clucks and then took the group away to the far side of the neighbor’s backyard. First time turkettes ever seen here.
  2. Visit to the Gardens at Elm Bank out in Wellesley. Beautiful. Educational. A lot of it fairly recently upgraded/developed. Quick threat of rain that did not happen added a thrill. The big thrill: there was a wedding there this evening and we told the couple we quite approved of the date because it was our anniversary, too. (Only bummer, the big main mansion is being renovated — looks like it really needs it — so you can’t go inside.)
  3. Transcendent dinner at Bocado Tapas Wine Bar in which every dish was lovely to unforgettable top-of-the-line, particularly the Duck Confit Croquetas — you know how much I love duck and this was a Top Five serving of it I can remember. (And the bullfight painting in the Men’s Room is a hoot-plus.)
  4. The mob of 50 or so way-out Bikers who passed us on Route 9 going back to Brookline. “Better than Fellini” as D put it. The especially crazy pink-wings and wiggy-clown costumes were only enhanced because almost all of the roaring riders were Biker Chicks. PS: The vibe was a thunderous “get out of the way, straights!!” Wherever this bunch goes to party tonight, I know I’d be in tiny pieces after an hour.

Blogs Good for Getting Weird Stuff on the Record

OK, this happened to me this afternoon. Happens every three-four years, for decades, swear to Yod. At a stoplight, I pull up next to another driver during windows-down weather conditions. And it sounds like he (always a he), is saying my name, again and again: “Milo? … Milo? … Milo?” I assume it’s “Hello” or something like that maybe in an accent. I look over and even before cell phones, the person is just looking forward, never seen them before in my life, going “Milo?” “Milo?”

Karma messing with my head, I think.