Happy Anniversary to Me

Dave and Dan in Brooklyn

I’m sure that I don’t deserve it, but yesterday, Anne called me a varlet and a pincock. On our anniversary, I might add. She was searching for new expletives and she didn’t want to sound like her mother. (Well, I’m certainly not going to touch that last part.) A varlet in modern usage is simply a valet and if she want’s to walk all over me and treat me like a common servant, well, who am I to say no? But in Shakespearian English, a varlet is a despicable man, which is not what I am. I don’t even recall why she went down this path. As I’ve said, I’m sure that I don’t deserve this. But if she want’s to call me a varlet then so be it. It’s water off this duck’s back.

What I do take exception to is pincock, which isn’t even an expletive, although it certainly sounds like one. The only references I could find on Google was as a family name. If you ask me, this opens up a whole new can-of-worms for those people, but that’s not at all germane here. To put it in a more modern context, for you tech savvy readers out there in internet-land, it’s like she’s giving a one-star Yelp review of me in bed. This isn’t fair, because as the reader can plainly see, there are two fruits from our once blissful marriage. So, I think that I deserve at least a two-star Yelp review. Continuing with this pseudo technology, fake sex diatribe, all this repudiation of me, just makes me feel micro-soft.   

Dushanbe Teahouse

Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse

We stayed in Boulder, when we visited Rocky Mountain National Park. We could have camped. We had reservations in the park, but reports of avalanches and deep snow dissuaded us from that idea. As it turned out, these were only back-country conditions and we would have been fine. By staying in Boulder though Anne and her sister, Jay, were able to arrange a rendezvous.

Jay’s family was flying into Denver, on three separate planes and they were on a tight schedule to get to Fort Collins. It was Saturday and Boulder’s normal Pearl Street weekend hubbub was intensified by not one, but two festivals. We first  tried parking in a close by parking structure. We circled up eight stories and then circled back down eight stories only to find a lot full sign had been put out in the interim. We eventually parked and found the restaurant, which was willing to make a reservation for seven. Our table was called and as we were being seated, when Jay, et. al. appeared. The sun, stars and moon must have been perfectly aligned or at least got into line, bent by the wills of Anne and her sister.

The Dushanbe Teahouse comes from Kazakhstan, Boulder’s sister city there boxed up the place in several hundred crates and shipped it all to Colorado, where it was reassembled and has been a going concern ever since. Its decorative artwork is quite extraordinary. I especially love the interior ceilings. We actually ate outside, because Saturday afternoon is dim-sum day.

Teahouse Ceiling

Yesterday, the annual 4th of July potluck picnic was held on the beach. This year, the adjacent old cabin hosted the event. Even so, logistics was an ordeal and was made even worse by the hot sun and sand. I think that the afternoon here was hotter than Saint Louis. Our retreat could have been a disaster, if not for the intervention of Dashie, a true angel of mercy, but now all is well again.

Jay and Carl

Carl and Jay

Yesterday, Anne and I drove up from Oregon. We let ourselves into Jay and Carl’s house and unloaded all of our stuff out of the Prius, first onto their front walk and then into the house. We’re leaving the car in the driveway until we leave town.

Last night, we now four met with Aimee and MB for dinner at the regatta themed Magnuson micro-brewery by the marina on Washington Lake. That wicked woman, Sue Nommi struck at the brewery, in the form of our waiter, who dumped ice water on Jay and MB. Later, he also forgot Amee’s dinner order, but it was all good in the end and we decamped to Aimee and MB’s place for some after dinner delights.

Today, Jay, Carl, Anne and I took public transit to the Seattle waterfront. We toured Pike’s Market. We shopped yarns, quilts and Metsker’s Maps. Lunch at the Pike’s Place Brewery, then down to the waterfront: Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, complete with three corpses on public display, the destruction of the Viaduct and then the aquarium. It is a nice aquarium, but it could have used more Rock fish. Public transportation home and Indian takeout for a laidback dinner.

Rendezvous

Jay, Rey, Becca, Ashlan and Carl

When the west was still wild, mountain men would meet once a year in what was called a rendezvous. Old acquaintances were renewed, news exchanged and new friendships forged. There was also a fair bit of partying. The rendezvous was usually held in areas like Boulder, on the mountain’s doorsteps. Thursday, when we were coming to Boulder, Anne saw signs for Fort Collins. Triggering a memory that Jay’s family would be flying in today. She reached out to Jay and asked if they could meet us for tea. I was skeptical, but never bet against Anne and her sister. Even though Jay’s family landed in three separate planes and had a previously scheduled dinner engagement, the stars were aligned. 

Our objective was the Dushanbe Teahouse. This Boulder landmark was steered to us by our Gyrotonics instructor. Tajikistan had sent several hundred crates of building materials that became the heart and soul of this teahouse. Located south of Pearl Street, Boulder’s trendy shopping district, the entire area was packed.

We wasted half-an-hour first circling up a parking structure and then back down again. It was full. We eventually found street parking blocks away. In addition to the normal Saturday shopping crush, there was a huge festival occurring across the street from the teahouse. Wading through the crowd, Anne and I found the place. I felt silly asking, but the hostess said yes, we could have a table for seven in a half-hour. We got the text, when our table was ready and were just being seated, when Jay and company showed up. Like I said, the stars were aligned.

I snapped this picture as Jay, et. al. were beating feet to Fort Collins. They were standing in front of the contemporary art museum, which we toured after they left. We next headed to Pearl for some shopping. I was impressed, but at times it became a little too much. We dined at Bartaco that Jane had recommended. Then it was time to go find the car and return to the motel.

We had spent the morning hiking again in Rocky Mountain National Park. We chose an enterance a little closer to Boulder, got an early start and avoided doing a death march. We almost hit a moose with the Prius, but no harm, no foul.