Here in Rhode Island if the temperature is above 55, it’s not snowing, the sun is shining and it’s March (or April), we call it Spring.
Sometimes I get all dressed up and ride along with Banjo Man when he goes to the dump. I know that he will head over to Narragansett and drive along the ocean if I am with him.
We call that a “date” now.
And we are very happy about it. Can you tell?
Thursday morning we drove up to Providence so Banjo Man could have some bloodwork done at the VA. Our doctor retired, so Banjo Man is trying something new. So far so good. Bonus: we were five minutes away from Federal Hill and all that lovely Italian food.
And our favorite restaurant, Andino’s, which–thank goodness–is still standing.
Alas, it was barely 10:30 AM. We sat in the car in the hospital parking lot and debated whether or not to head over to “the Hill”, kill some time and show up at Andino’s for a major pasta lunch at 11:30.
My poor husband struggled, but in the end decided to go home and get back to work.
We ate a couple of bananas and were home in less than an hour.
Fact: bananas do not taste like homemade pasta.