(Jim and Jeff, an associate from the building and real estate world. Photos Socotra).

Home again, home again. Funny- it doesn’t feel that way. It is snowing outside. Sticking, too, at least to the grassy areas. My very wise cousin wrote me about vacations yesterday. Her Dad the Famous Bomber Pilot had a maxim about the things. They were not officially over until the last day comes when you can say: “A week ago today I was….”

A week ago today I was sitting shirtless in the screen porch, thinking about where to walk in lovely Key West. I have a few days to go before I actually run out of the vacation, so I will bask in the memory of warmth and friends, old and new. And the jitters of being back in Your Nation’s Capital.

I slid into the Emerald City after the rush, and made the last bottleneck on I-66 managing to keep the knots up on the Panzer. Rhonda at the front desk had a daunting stack of mail, which I screened, looking for registered land-mines.

I found one, which is going to eat up a bunch of time and effort. That and the number of solicitations and magazines I don’t read were enough to convince me that the time to simplify has arrived. I was still digging out from that when I realized that the Willow was calling.

I could get right with the court, or I could get my body correctly and chemically aligned. So naturally I dropped the paperwork where it was and went out.

Old Jim was at the apex of the Amen Corner. A new bartender was there, too, Baby Jess, according to Jon-without- things change rapidly in the food and beverage world, and I resolved to ask for her life story at the earliest opportunity. A fellow named Builder Jeff was seated next to Jim, and Jasper had placed signs reading “reserved” at the four stools leading down the bar from where Jim holds court.

This was to be a dual observation of birthdays. Lovely Jamie and Old Jim were not born on the same day, much less the same half century, but it was close enough for Government Work, not that there is any of that, and we are nothing if not flexible.

Jasper slid a white wine in front of me, and despite the miles and the fatigue and the shell-shock of being back in Winter, life was good.

(Left to right: TLB, OJ, J and TLJ.)

To honor the occasion, J and K were also in attendance, and K2, who lives next door to Jon-without and TLB herself, and the cake was one of Kate Jansen’s exercises in whipped chocolate and dark cake studded with raspberries. When Jasper brought it out for the candles and cutting and eating, there were the predicable oohs-and-ahs.

(Birthday boy and girl with reinforcements).

What a cake- and the proof of it is in the delectable slices that Jasper carved off the three-tiered beauty:

It was a pity that we ate so much of it that the remainder fell off the pedestal serving-stand and careened across the bar, nearly arriving in Jon-without’s well-tailored lap.

(TLB comes to the rescue after disaster overtakes the birthday cake).

I could tell you more about it, but hey, a week ago I was wondering whether I should wear a shirt to go outside, and there is already more than an inch of snow on my patio table.

Jeeze.

Copyright 2014 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra,com
Twitter: @jayare303