Eastern Time

To say our time in NY and CT was fabulous is to understate the quality of our visit. The weather was wonderful; yes, it rained a good bit, but never at a time that interfered with our plans, and the temps were great–in the mid 70s much of the time, so humidity wasn’t a problem.

We had quality time with family and friends, went to a Yankee game, had pizza, Italian, bagels, and pastrami on rye; Mr Desert had plenty of seafood–enough to satisfy his cravings now that Pacific seafood is tainted with radiation–and reveled in the accents and attitudes of New Yorkers.

We went to Yankee stadium on Tuesday, Mr Desert’s birthday, to see the Yanks play Rays. It was a rainy day and poured on our way there. Once we parked, it stopped raining, and we enjoyed a rain-free game during which Pettite pitched and the Yankee bats were hot. Yankee’s won 7 – 1. It was cold, though, and neither of us packed anything warm. Mr Desert didn’t even bring long pants! I bought a nifty Yankee’s jacket, so stayed warm during the game. I may not have a need to wear it again until we head east again, but ce la vie.

We also made a quick trip to CT to visit my best friend–we survived grad school together–and played poker one night with their weekly game. Poker game. We both made the final table, and Mr Desert and CT poker shark chopped the pot. It was great to spend time with such great friends, visiting and catching up. You know you’re with good friends when you can settle in as if no time has passed even when it’s been years since you’ve been together. Friendships like this one are rare and need to be nourished and valued for how special they are. I am a better person for having these good folks in my life.

We head back to the desert tomorrow. It will be great to see our critters–I’ve really missed them–and to be back in our pool and spa, but I’ll miss the beautiful canopy of trees and the wondrous shades of green that are found in the northeast. I love the desert, but I love to visit my old eastern stomping grounds a well.

Until next time . . ..

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