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I'm feeling out of it at the moment, so this may be less coherent than I'd like.
Moshe has a monthly fannish social that he calls the Last Chance Salon: conversation, sometimes a bit of music or a movie (the wonders of recording technology). Some months, he gets people together for dim sum beforehand, since he lives in Flushing.
This was a dim sum month. We had a variety of stuff, mostly the standards, done well, but also something none of us had ever tasted before, a New Year's treat: it was red, sweet, oddly sticky, and more appealing than that sounds. I got there a bit late--I'd forgotten about the downtown A running local all weekend--which meant that by the time I walked into the restaurant, my friends were at a table right near the entrance, with food and tea waiting for me. So that was good.
Too many subway stations get very cold when it's cold outside for an extended period; one of them is 42nd and Eighth, where I changed trains in both directions.
I think I had too much cake, and possibly too much tea, during the afternoon. I found the energy, when I got to Inwood, to walk into the supermarket and get some lamb chops and a bottle of olive oil. By the time I walked into the house, I realized I wasn't up to doing anything with them, so![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cattitude kindly offered to cook.
On our way from the restaurant to Moshe's, he observed that he'd need to chop ice when he got back. This morphed naturally into me helping him--kicking ice out of the way after he chopped it, then taking a turn with the chopper when he got tired, until we got the front path properly clear. Moshe was doing this, of course, because he lives there: I was doing it because it's what I do. (The other guests had gone inside.)
As I was heading out, L detained me to tell "the story about Ben Yalow and the Franciscan nun", which is actually about her buying a secondhand computer and getting Ben to verify that it worked; Ben got dragged into it because he's in Detroit this weekend, at ConFusion.
I'm considering buying a balaclava.
Moshe has a monthly fannish social that he calls the Last Chance Salon: conversation, sometimes a bit of music or a movie (the wonders of recording technology). Some months, he gets people together for dim sum beforehand, since he lives in Flushing.
This was a dim sum month. We had a variety of stuff, mostly the standards, done well, but also something none of us had ever tasted before, a New Year's treat: it was red, sweet, oddly sticky, and more appealing than that sounds. I got there a bit late--I'd forgotten about the downtown A running local all weekend--which meant that by the time I walked into the restaurant, my friends were at a table right near the entrance, with food and tea waiting for me. So that was good.
Too many subway stations get very cold when it's cold outside for an extended period; one of them is 42nd and Eighth, where I changed trains in both directions.
I think I had too much cake, and possibly too much tea, during the afternoon. I found the energy, when I got to Inwood, to walk into the supermarket and get some lamb chops and a bottle of olive oil. By the time I walked into the house, I realized I wasn't up to doing anything with them, so
cattitude kindly offered to cook.On our way from the restaurant to Moshe's, he observed that he'd need to chop ice when he got back. This morphed naturally into me helping him--kicking ice out of the way after he chopped it, then taking a turn with the chopper when he got tired, until we got the front path properly clear. Moshe was doing this, of course, because he lives there: I was doing it because it's what I do. (The other guests had gone inside.)
As I was heading out, L detained me to tell "the story about Ben Yalow and the Franciscan nun", which is actually about her buying a secondhand computer and getting Ben to verify that it worked; Ben got dragged into it because he's in Detroit this weekend, at ConFusion.
I'm considering buying a balaclava.