Trying to squeeze every minute out of this, the last Sunday before ALL the fall activities finally swing into high gear and every weekend is scheduled until mid-2014, Catherine and I made a wonderful Pasta Alla Vodka following this recipe from the Rhyme & Ribbons blog, and then the three of us went out for ice cream.
Back at home, I laced on a pair of sneakers, figuring I’d better do battle against the frozen calories before they got too comfortable.
I had plenty of company out in the neighborhood: Kids soaking up the last seconds of freedom before bedtime beckoned, grown-ups racing through their final weekend chores; dog-walkers; Sunday drivers; couples and families out for a stroll.
One woman I met along the way was a stranger, but I won’t soon forget her.
Tall and lithe, with a pretty face framed in a bob of brunette curls, she cut a rather fashionable sight in a crisp white blouse over black pedal pushers and loafers. Indeed, I felt quite frumpy in my holey jeans and oversized sweatshirt, neglected hairdo swaying this way and that in the wind.
As Pedal Pushers passed me on the street, she parted her lips to smile … and surprised us both with a rolling belch.
I had no choice but to smile back.