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I went over to chez Funny Lady yesterday. Remember her? If you don't, suffice it to say that she's made of charm, she dumped me in the nicest way I've ever been dumped, she basically hooked me up to the queer-poly-women community in Seattle, and she's tons of fun.
In addition to all that, quarantine has turned her into a domestic goddess. She's learned to bake her own bread and grow her own veggies & herbs, which is of course what we ate. Fabulous! OK, she didn't make the cheese in the Caprese salad, but as I told her, she'll get some cows in there yet.
And I wouldn't have thought that she'd have enough room to grow much living in an old house on Capitol Hill, but she and her neighbors have been basically made their two yards communal. I have to say, sitting out there with Funny Land and the sun filtering through the grape vines growing on the upper-story back deck was enough to make me forget the parlous state of the world for a couple of hours. I hadn't seen her this year, I think, and she Doesn't Do Video Calls.
One... alarming thing we heard while in the front yard was the police dealing with someone who was having a mental health emergency a few doors up. FL says there are a few halfway houses in the area. My hostess peeked over the fence, and we were both relieved to learn that the subject of police attention was white.
As lovely as it mostly was, I can't help but remember the parties I've been to at that house. FL has serious ADHD and therefore a penchant for throwing soirées at short notice. They usually involve hot queer makeouts, fearing for your life, or both. When she calls, I come. May her parties return soon.
In addition to all that, quarantine has turned her into a domestic goddess. She's learned to bake her own bread and grow her own veggies & herbs, which is of course what we ate. Fabulous! OK, she didn't make the cheese in the Caprese salad, but as I told her, she'll get some cows in there yet.
And I wouldn't have thought that she'd have enough room to grow much living in an old house on Capitol Hill, but she and her neighbors have been basically made their two yards communal. I have to say, sitting out there with Funny Land and the sun filtering through the grape vines growing on the upper-story back deck was enough to make me forget the parlous state of the world for a couple of hours. I hadn't seen her this year, I think, and she Doesn't Do Video Calls.
One... alarming thing we heard while in the front yard was the police dealing with someone who was having a mental health emergency a few doors up. FL says there are a few halfway houses in the area. My hostess peeked over the fence, and we were both relieved to learn that the subject of police attention was white.
As lovely as it mostly was, I can't help but remember the parties I've been to at that house. FL has serious ADHD and therefore a penchant for throwing soirées at short notice. They usually involve hot queer makeouts, fearing for your life, or both. When she calls, I come. May her parties return soon.
