Notice that the photo above is from 10 days ago. Today, the first day of spring, looked like the photo below in my neighborhood -- after some melting of the 8 to 10 inches of snow we had yesterday.
The receptionist at my allergist's office today noted that last year on this day she was at a local beach -- with record-setting temps in the 70s one year ago. It was in the 30s today, with wind chills much lower. Still, the sun came out at various points, and it stayed light until after 7pm. But snow showers are predicted for tomorrow...
My moods have been as volatile as the March weather. The weekdays have been the most challenging, alone in the apartment with an increasing supply of bits of work but lots of uncertainty and insecurity. I did get out on Monday night for a most enjoyable evening with former colleagues, all having left "the writing sweatshop" at one point or another over the last few years, meeting up at the intoxicating Burdick's chocolate shop & cafe in Harvard Square. On the recommendation of one of them, I had a small cup of Granadian hot chocolate ("Robust single source dark chocolate from the Island of Grenada exclusively for Burdick Chocolate. Hints of lychee fruit, nutmeg and banana.") and a piece of hazelnut orange cake. wow
I also had a nice time with D last weekend, seeing Side Effects on Saturday afternoon and going to the Museum of Fine Arts on Sunday. The MFA's current exhibit of blue and white ceramics was an unexpected delight. And I found Bruce Davidson's black and white photographs of one block in East Harlem in the 1960s deeply moving. We were about to leave, having drunk our fill of art for the afternoon (and we hadn't eaten so were getting lightheaded), when I saw the Loïs Mailou Jones exhibit near the stairs. We ducked in for a peek and were rewarded with a striking range of work from this (unknown to me) pioneering artist. D ended up buying a membership for two since it would have cost us half that much for one visit, so we'll be back.
After leaving the MFA, and passing lots of drunken green-clad young people headed for St. Patrick's Day celebrations at every Irish pub in the Back Bay, we went to Bukowski's for a pint and a bite to eat. I'd never been before, but I did like it, conjuring up my younger days and fondness for dive bars. The food and extensive beer menu belie the dive bar ambiance - both excellent, despite the cheeky daily menu (an homage to the bar's namesake).