We met Joan, had a bottle of wine, they were handing out free pizza slices, and we had a cup of the deadly tomato-basil soup with the even deadlier garlic bread.

We had a good time. They’ve really revised Tomato Street—enlarged the dining area, but they haven’t touched the bar: instead of the bottomless carafe, they’re now offering cheap bottles of blended dinner wine. The 8 foot long tables where perfect strangers may end up joining you at the other end have remained…usually very nice folk, with whom you exchange a few words, then everybody pretends the other isn’t there. It’s noisy—soundproofing is non-existent. But a good time…

We shared a bottle —3 people. And managed to have a not-dinner. And then…somebody ordered a birthday dessert, which is chocolate cake with ice cream and poofy stuff, and a footlong candle in a holder. They couldn’t find the recipient, we were the last table before the kitchen—so the waiter left it on our table.

Oh, my.

This morning we are both muscle-sore: the tomato soup and the onion; and 3 pounds up (butter and garlic and onion). So we won’t do that again any time soon. But it was still fun.

This morning we’re moving slowly, looking forward to getting back on the diet, and the Pineapple Express has moved in with a vengeance, a strong wind out of the southwest that is blowing all the trees clear of snow and warming us to about 38 degrees. So all our nice snow is going to hit the streams and rivers at once, which is not the situation we’d like, but it’s what we’ve got, and at least we got our snow.

I hope it snows heavily at least one more time before March, but we may have seen the end of our winter—usually the last of the winter snow piles melts by St Patrick’s Day. And it may be earlier than that this year.