June was a busy, happy month. Finished with Spring classes, and not yet starting Summer ones, I was working on my book with Marnie everyday at BU, but my evenings and weekends were my own--no grading, for one entire month! We took advantage of the downtime to enjoy ourselves as usual--or perhaps a little more than usual.
We ate fish with Jef, who just bought a brand-new car, with sun roof, and who will soon be graduating and moving.
We went to the Scooperbowl--twice. All-you-can-eat ice cream in City Hall Plaza, and for a good cause--we were content.
We had a homemade sushi feast with Ben. The messy nigiri are all Ben's. Essentially, we were three 30-year-olds playing with water and then eating our soggy, but tasty, rolls. Robert chews one of his last bites with great gusto.
We went out for raw oysters, donuts, excellent conversation, and late-night video-games with Bob and his (identical) twin brother Jim.
We took the subway up to Lechmere to take a 2004 Toyota Prius, courtesy of Zipcar, so that Robert could bond with the energy-efficient car that doesn't quite fit him. . .
. . . in order to drive up to Lynn to see Robert's grandmother, and then to take her to Revere to eat fried clams and feed seagulls.
We flew to New York for the action-packed weekend of our 6th anniversary, Father's Day, and my cousins' birthdays. So, we did the family thing on Sunday, complete with banana cream pie, napoleon cake, and Lemon Ice King take-out (coffee, lemon, and chocolate-chip)--we barbecued, visited, cooked, and sat on the front pork talking.
But on Saturday we also did the just-us thing in Manhattan, getting dressed up to go out, walking through the Plaza Hotel's abandoned furniture sale (and nearly getting scared that we had walked onto a horror movie set from the desertedness of it all--we were only rescued by a wave of the utterly New York randomness of it as well), buying ice cream from the soon-to-be-outlawed (if Bloomberg, trying to out-crazy Giuliani, has his way) Mister Softee trucks, and wandering around Columbus Circle--including BarMasa, the budget wing of the famously $300-a-person sushi bar Masa. The fish was amazing, although after a month of varied delights--and more recently, a hotel selling the doors, toilets, bedframes, and kitchen stoves, and an $85 sushi deluxe plate--we did seem to lose a little bit of perspective.
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