The view off my deck. 7:30 PM.
I’ve been spending a lot of time on the deck lately. I’m not sure if that’s because I need the sun and haven’t been running outside or if it’s because I happen to like listening to The Angry Red-Winged Blackbird scream while looking over the pond.
Put a popsicle in my hand and my happiness knows no bounds.
Today. Was a perfect day. Despite the fact that it was a Tuesday and the fact that it’s pretty hard to beat yesterday. Or our trip to Texas.
Both also perfect.
I used to hoard them. Perfect Days. They would come once in a blue moon. And I would remember each of them, distinctly. When I needed to.
But if I may be so honest, over the past few weeks I’ve been overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for how truly full my life is. There are things that we’re able to control and so many that we’re not.
I’m not sure if it’s optimism, a bit of insanity or both, but every day I ask myself the question, How could I not love this?
Why would I even attempt moderation when my kitchen smells like ripe peaches (in the basket on the counter) and the corn hasn’t even come in yet.
Perfect days are not a zero sum game.
So. The tail end of my perfect day.
Tonight, Eli and I headed out to Bradstreet Craftshouse to catch-up and celebrate Minneapolis Restaurant Week.
Where we sipped fancy things like cocktails called The Professor mixed with gin, lime and ginger syrup.
I don’t even drink gin but it tasted like a spicy-sweet ginger slurry with just a bit of heat to linger at the end.
And we noshed on plates like bruschetta with burrata, salad with chartreuse-lemon vinaigrette. She had The Elvis which involved french toast, seared pork belly, honey peanut butter and bruleed banana. Are you sold yet? Me too. I had the beer braised lamb ribs with pickled onions. As a grand finale, there was summer sweet corn tapioca with coconut sorbet and mango.
It was wonderful and fascinating and different.
Why no pictures you ask? Because it was one of those swanky places that thrives on dark lighting and extremely modern stuff. Where it probably doesn’t matter what you wear because once you make it past the threshold, no one is going to be able to see it anyway.
It was just wild.
And all of this on a Tuesday.
At which point I returned home to that lovely view, a sweet potato baking in the oven for tomorrow’s lunch and an episode of The Newsroom.
Not nearly as glamorous, but perfect just the same.
What are perfect day-makers for you?