We come together in the same way each year: a late call, a few bottles of wine, a few beers and beef stew from scratch. The assortment of people varies, this evening: Dan at Lisa & Becky's place. We circled thoughts, nibbled on my Mum's Chex Mix and watched the bottles drain.
I learned that gift wrap should not be placed near candles. Lisa, in all her nannying experience, remained calm, poised: and in the most simple tone, "We are equipped to handle this." I barked, "Oh! No-" Lisa cut me off, "We are equipped to handle this." She plucked the flaming bag from the dining room table and plopped it into the sink. I think the gingerbread house in the background really pulls the photo together, no?
Braxton (Lisa's dog, and the canine equivalent of Lionel Richie) rose to investigate the commotion. We assure him all is under control, and proceed to make a few calls to old friends. Promises of future engagements are made. We slip into beds, the house is over a hundred years old, there is no heat upstairs. Extra blankets were distributed.
We woke to coffee from the french press, discussed the moments ahead: Boxing Day shopping, cocktails at the hotels Becky designed Christmas decorations for. I met up with Julia briefly, sipped vodka and devoured plump, divine scallops with an Irish man at Contour. The happy hour menu has continued to evolve into more amazing directions ($2.50 drinks, full meals $1.95-3.95. Try: the Istanbul Mahi Mahi Sandwich).
Although we planned to hit up five of the hotels that Becky (self moniker, "Head Elf") crafted into holiday festive treats, we only made it to: The Sorrento, The Four Seasons and Juno.
Lisa does the red velvet couch quite well.
Becky speaks of the bobbles, the trees and informs me, "Keisha, your drink has a piece of bacon in it."
"Yes. I know. That's why I ordered it. I'm hungry. It has blue cheese too. Here try. Have you had that Vosges bar with chocolate?"
The evening was puncuated with cream cheese dogs and gyros in Pioneer Square. I could not ask for more.