Weekend

[pameladean]

Eric was still recovering from the previous weekend and wished to be by himself on Friday. I made a tremendous fuss and then mostly got over it. I had a very nice evening with Raphael, having conveniently forgotten that Lydy's family was up visiting and I was invited to have dinner with them and David and Lydy. It's perhaps just as well; I understand that what really freaks them out about Lydy's romantic life is that David's wife lives in the same house and thinks the whole relationship is lovely.

In the middle of the afternoon on Saturday I went over to Eric's. We had plans to go shopping, to go to Loring Park and look at wildlife, and to go to the Minn-Stf meeting. Although I could have sworn that last weekend was Pride, David had mentioned to me when I told him goodbye that he and Joel had seen a lot of pavilions being set up in Loring Park on Friday; and indeed when Eric and I got there, there was Pride. We were much amused. We inadvertently walked into the Pride celebration last year when we were looking for the Cromulent Shakespeare Company's production of Twelfth Night, which was incorrectly listed as taking place in Loring Park that Saturday. We had agreed that we would try to go on purpose this year, but then the weekend was too hectic.

We did some people-watching, and when the rain began we figured we'd have a late lunch or early dinner at Big E's. They don't open for dinner until 4:30, so we dawdled back to Eric's, looking at trees and plants and such birds as presented themselves. We got back to Big E's not long after 4:30, and the tables had all filled up by the time Eric had made up his mind what to order. I had the vegan etoufee, with blackened mushrooms and eggplant. It was very tasty, but, absent the richer sauce and more abundant protein of the true etoufee, a bit light. Eric had some catfish and a lovely assortment of sides. While we were eating it rained torrentially and mostly sideways, but by the time we wanted to leave it had stopped. After a pause for digestion and literature, we got on a bus and went to 42nd and Nicollet, after which we walked over to the Minn-Stf meeting, admiring and identifying trees with the aid of the book my mother gave Eric as a graduation present.

It was a very small meeting, but that did mean we got to talk to the hosts and hear dog and house stories. Eventually we went out for dinner with David, introducing Eric to Little Tijuana, where David has been eating since 1974 and I since 1977. I can't eat most of what's on the menu any more, especially since any request to not put cheese on something never makes it to the kitchen intact. But they've added a huge black-bean veggieburger, so I'm happy enough.

The sky was spectacular on the drive from the meeting to the restaurant: dark blue and dark gray and light gray lines of cloud in the north, huge puffy yellow and pink clouds in the east, huge dark clouds underlit with sunset in the west and south.

It poured while we were eating, and at one point the server came and told us that there was a tornado warning. I don't remember what all we talked about, but I enjoyed it. David then very kindly drove us back to the Minn-Stf meeting so Eric could reclaim his belt bag, and then took us to Eric's. It had stopped raining again by then. The cat was glad to see us. I read Busman's Honeymoon and Eric read The Making of the Atomic Bomb. I gave up and went to sleep first. We had some good conversation and some fraught conversation, and got up late.

More later.

Pamela

Comments

[minnehaha.livejournal.com]

I'll bet the pride celebration was particularly celebratory, given that there was actually something new to celebrate.

B

[marykaykare.livejournal.com]

The Making of the Atomic Bomb is one of my favorite non-fiction books. When I read it I fell deeply in love with Nils Bohr and got very angry with Churchill for supsecting him of bad sympathies and having him followed. I mean, I was really exercised; had to keep reminding myself both these men were dead now. Sometimes being a physics groupie is a hard job.

MKK

[pameladean]

It was full of cheerful people paying absolutely no heed to the weather, but that doesn't much distinguish it from other years. Really what is supposed to be celebrated, I believe, has nothing to do with the law or the courts, but certainly I was minded of the recent decision and felt quite lightheaded about it, so perhaps others did too. Pride is generally so effervescent, it's hard to tell.

Pamela
Pamela

The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Rhodes

[arkuat]

I loved it too. It was such a poignant tale, especially considering Szilard and Wigner and Teller, three nice Hungarian Jews doing their utmost to stop Hitler (how can one object to this?), only to see their handiwork used against the Japanese with racist enthusiasm. Other books talk about how each of them dealt with that in the aftermath, but Rhodes's book makes perfectly clear the contrast between the original intent of the American bomb (to get it before Hitler got it) and how it was ultimately used.