Progressive Supper

Last evening, E and I went to Cattle Town Inn restaurant for dinner.

I love the idea of this place. It's a huge log structure on an out-of-the-way road in Jersey. There are at least three huge dining rooms and I seem to recall gigantic fireplaces in each of them.

Unfortunately, the three times I've been there, it's started out relatively calm and ended up a bedlam of screaming, shouting, running, jumping, playing children.

E loves kids and last night was too much for her.

We had our mediocre burgers and I had my extremely deficient margarita. E was specifically in the mood for onion rings and it turned out Cattle Town Inn had 'onion crisps' and these were served cold. Not so good.

For dessert we tried La Mesa de Dulces. Dulces is smack in the middle of a very busy little town. And yet, it was closed on a Friday night. E and I pressed our noses against the window. "Look at those little pecan pie tart things!" "Linzertortes!" But it did no good.

Instead, we stopped at Gastineau's Bakery where we each chose a slice of very decadent cake, then went to Kwik-E-Mart for coffee.

We decided to eat dessert in my car. I rolled down all the windows and E fastened her seat belt.

I said, "Do you think the cake is going to be so good that you need to prepare to be ejected from the car?"

We both laughed so hard at this image that we cried.

We had both had tough weeks, so the cake and coffee thing was a brilliant idea.

GiGi is still hanging on because Annushka will give her no rest. But already, E and T and Annushka have been writing GiGi's obituary. E, who is in a position to know, thinks that Fido, GiGi's constant companion for the past six years, should be included. Annushka does not. (I know I will figure absolutely nowhere in this and don't expect to.)

After we finished dessert, we crammed the trash into a plastic bag and drove through the little town, full of Victorian cottages of many a variety.

E is a fervid househunter, only to relish the thrill of the hunt but never pull the trigger. I am the same, but her ardor is stronger.

E bought me a lottery ticket. I could be rich now, but I doubt it. E said she wanted to start a philanthropic organization that provided safe houses for women in countries where their culture expects them to immolate themselves or if they're shunned or otherwise cast out. She wants to build what we call a compound in upstate New York - a cluster of cottages out in the woods where we are all within dropping-by distance of each other. She asked me if I would run the philanthropic organization and I said I'd do my best. Then she started talking about additional compounds, including one in Bermuda. I could be very philanthropic sitting in my house in Bermuda.

Work was so terrible this week that I really don't want to talk about it. I am planning a couple of days off very soon. Nothing will deter me from them.

I am staying home today. I'm not going to work. At most, my travels will see me to the Pleasantville Library.

And I might have to stop by Hesse's Bakery (far superior to Gastineau's) for an eclair.

Other than that, it's watching movies and taking naps on the couch.