After last week's spring cleaning winter set in again. Tuesday night into Wednesday morning dropped just over a foot of snow and bought us a school snow day.
Our old friend, Regina Haag, came for a visit on Sunday and managed to get out before the snow started on Tuesday. When we lived in Glens Falls, we got together frequently, along with her husband, Dennis, and son, Andy. Then we moved north, and they have since moved south, to Old Chatham, NY. We'll take a turn to travel and make a trip down there for a day or two in April, during the school's "spring break" week.
Between things, I managed to read a couple books, and later in the week had a few odds and ends website jobs come along.
The church ladies had a Pi Day dinner scheduled on Wednesday, March 14th, 3/14. It's got nothing to do with Jesus, but was a good excuse to try to raise money charging $3.14 for a bowl of soup and another $3.14 for a piece of pie. It got snowed out along with school on Wednesday, and they rescheduled it for Thursday, the Ides of March. It was a bad sign, and we should have paid attention.
Instead, we went. And the soup was ok. 5 flavors to choose from. It remind me of dinner at my Uncle Chuck and Aunt Bertha's place at 1000 Islands when I was a kid. They'd pour you half of a 4 ounce juice glass of milk and be amazed that you wanted refills so quickly.
A smallish bowl of soup would have been excusable, though, if some sadist hadn't put rhubarb in the apple pie. On the first bite something smelled and tasted a little off. I wondered if maybe they'd thawed out a leftover pie from last year's turkey dinner. After another bite, it seemed like maybe they'd just used bad apples and the pie was spoiled. Closer examination, then, revealed rhubarb. It was revolting. The other folks we sat with encouraged me to go get a piece of a different pie, but it was too late. I had lost my appetite. We were finally well enough to order out for pizza shortly before bed.
I go to most church dinners happily enough. As with anything, some are better than others. I have never gone to one before now that has made me want to cry in public. Also, I have never before wanted my money back from a charitable institution.
On Friday evening we went to visit another friend, Deb Packard, for dinner. She had returned from a trip to Seattle and Portland earlier in the week, and had invited us for a St. Patrick's dinner: corned beef and cabbage. It was just the ticket to get us all feeling better about eating again.
On balance, then, I'll put the week in the plus column, bookended by good times with friends, old and new. And Pi Day itself, as a snow day, was a day spent at home with family. But truly, beware the Ides of March, especially when it comes with church ladies proffering pie.