Symbolic Return of the Dog and Danish Days
As promised, Sunday morning we had our bagel date. But before hitting the bakery, we stopped down the block at a coffeeshop for hot drinks, and that progressive piecemeal method of building breakfast reminded me of last fall, when we ate dinner at the Top Dog counter several times a week and always brought our own jar of dill pickles from home. Once or twice, we also came with our own dessert--breakfast pastries--in large part so we could rationalize that our unhealthy eating habits were merely a side-effect of honoring our ancestry: all hail the Poles and the Danes.
Thus was born the "Dog and Danish" tradition, one of many frivolous diversions that remind us how well-matched we are. As we sat at the little round table outside the bagelry and watched people walk by with their cool shoes, goofy dogs, new babies, outrageous haircuts, and the like, I felt, for lack of a better word, extraordinarily present. I wasn't worried about the freelance work I needed to do or the shoes and jewlery I needed to buy for my new dress or the fact that I still don't have any type of itinerary for our stay in England. I was just there at that table, absorbing the temperature difference between my shoulders in the shade and my shins in the bright morning sun. The lox on Simon's bagel was so peach and exquisitely striated and it caught the light so beautifully that I almost wanted to crawl under it and tuck myself in. I have never wanted to use fish as a blanket before.
After bagels, we stepped into the Gap for just a second and Simon ended up harrassing the staff about everything from T-shirt sizes to jean washes ("These ones are too...blue, don't you think?") to the music playing over the in-store stereo. They must have thought us charming, however, because when we went back to the dressing rooms and disappeared into side-by-side doors, the staff basically ordered us to use the extra-large one together. It was waaaaaay at the end of the row, tucked back where the lights don't quite reach. Again with the flash photography and, also, dancing.
Another store and ten T-shirts later, we were back at home because I needed to get some freelance stuff out of the way. Simon called his bandmate for an impromptu jam, and while I indexed a book about Beaux-Arts architecture from bed, the boys played the blues in the music room, no doubt with big, un-bluesy smiles on their faces.
At that point, it had been exactly twenty-four hours since I'd been to the dress shop, and I still couldn't stop thinking about that second-best dress. It was classic, elegant, and it photographed like Grace Kelly herself. As you saw yesterday, Simon was not only in the dressing room with me making loud and sometimes suggestive comments while I tried out my options, but he was also taking flash pictures of me from every angle. And although he was right that one of the dresses was definitely "It," I discovered later that that one ended up looking a little lumpy and unflattering in the photographs, whereas the second-best dress looked just as good on the little digital screen as it did in real life. And since I was looking for a dress to be worn at a wedding at which many photographs will be taken and put on mantels for years to come, I got a wee bit panicked that in the "It" dress I'd look like a tied roast with a blonde ponytail.
So even though I already had a dress that I love and that will probably photograph perfectly well when done from a better angle than can be achieved within a cramped dressing room, I went back to the city and bought the second-best dress. And it was just as lovely as I remembered it. And ten dollars cheaper. Even though I can't think of when I'll have an opportunity to wear it, I will, as Lori commented yesterday, probably enjoy just wearing it around the house because it makes me feel so pretty. Grace Kelly, I tell you!
Simon's reward for accompanying me to the city again was that he'd get a chance to run around Golden Gate Park for an hour. I brought workout clothes and shoes so I could join him, but I ended up staying in the car talking on the phone with Teddy instead, which probably did me more good than exercising since I hadn't talked to him in nearly two weeks and that kind of distance is bad for my system. While Simon jogged through the Botanical Gardens in the rolling fog, Teddy and I talked vacations and cameras, and he shared the innocuous version of his July adventures in North Carolina and travels up the Eastern seaboard to his new temporary home in Philadelphia. (The non-innocuous stuff came in a letter the next day--a real, physical paper letter that was stamped and sent through the mail and everything. If you haven't sent or received an actual letter in a while, try it out; it feels great.)
When Simon returned sweaty and tired, we headed for our next engagement--meeting friends at Grove Cafe in Pacific Heights to drop off a bike rack Simon was releasing on permanent loan. We stayed for a short chat and an overpriced but delicious quesedilla and then we were on the road again, headed for home and a shower and a movie before bed.
After weekends like that, I always marvel at how much we can accomplish, and how much we can see, when we start the day out right--with a bagel date. It seems the less I try to control things, the more I'm open to the unexpected, to dress shopping at an unfamiliar store, brunch with unexpected guests, and an evening snack at an undiscovered café.
Here's a collection of photos from the weekend, at home and abroad. Color originals will be up on Flickr.
That picture of the two of you up top... GORGEOUS. I loves it.
Great photos, as always. I can almost taste the bagels, hear the music and feel the sunshine in them.
Had a family bagel date last weekend. Not the same, considering the youngest in our party (3 and 1/2) had to be told to use his inside voice more than once.
Great photos, as always. I can almost taste the bagels, hear the music and feel the sunshine in them.
Had a family bagel date last weekend. Not the same, considering the youngest in our party (3 and 1/2) had to be told to use his inside voice more than once.
smoked salmon and cream cheese on an everything bagel = the perfect breakfast!
Sounds like a great weekend...and reminds me of our life before kids. Honey & I are trying to plan a weekend sans kids in Vancouver, and plan to hit the greasy spoon we used to frequent for brunch, and do some shopping of our own.
You're making me want a bagel and a boyfriend. Thanks a lot Leah!
Have been enjoying your blog since finding it recently. Your life is similar to mine in a lot of ways and I like your writing style and pics. Compliments aside, I live in England and I'd be happy to suggest places of interest/coolness for you to visit. Just let me know.
ps Bring summer clothes- it's uncharacteristically hot over here! But also a waterproof jacket. It's bound to start raining again soon.
You have quite the eye for photos, Leah. THey are wonderful.