Delights: October 25 to October 31

October 25: Tiny Falls Church, with its historic houses, historic barn and walkable neighborhoods, has always had a vibrant and diverse restaurant scene. Last year, a new place, Ellie Bird, quickly won accolades among cognoscenti. (Founded by Michelin-starred Falls Church natives, the restaurant earned a nationwide top-25 mention from the New York Times in December.) My cherished high school friends Laurna, Kathy and Cindy were gathering for a Virginia weekend together, so I used their enthusiasm as an excuse to see what the culinary fuss was about. 

“You always look great when you come here,” chirped a cheerful manager, Avery, as I entered. I gently corrected her, then wished I hadn’t: several times she stopped by our table to apologize and confess embarrassment over her gaffe. I assured her that her mistake pleased me greatly. She seemed to relax. 

Meanwhile, my friends and I relished conversation and Ellie Bird’s fun, chef-driven food. I enjoyed a fennel rigatoni bolognese with roasted bone marrow (seasoned and served in the actual bone) — sorry, Jeremiah — along with nibbles from my friends’ dishes. Then the parade of surprises began.

First, our server delivered a pear dish ornamented with lettuce leaf-shaped Tête De Moine cheese. On the house. Then, to complement our chocolate dessert, we received — again, on the house — a magnificent pumpkin pie sundae. My friends and I celebrated our delicious food and my ridiculous inability to take a good photo. (Thistles and Kiwis, I salute your skill!). 

The service manager, Avery, was attentive to us throughout our evening. I think she might have been our starter-and-dessert benefactor. As my friends left the restaurant, I bade Avery goodbye. She reached out for a hug. I reciprocated, while teetering a box of rigatoni leftovers. The leftovers hit the floor. Five minutes later, I left — with a huge new serving of rigatoni and the warmth of Avery’s attention.

Bonus: If you click the Ellie Bird link, be sure to scroll down to see the adorable photos of Ellie Bird’s work family.

October 26: Yesterday, Laurna, Kathy, Cindy and I strolled down the 18^th century streets of Old Town Alexandria and admired the very 21^st century Halloween skeleton displays. Today, we toured the 19^th century home of the great American abolitionist and orator Frederick Douglass. Preserved almost exactly as he left it at the time of his death in 1895, the house still contains the chairs he sat in, the walking canes he received as gifts from other prominent people, his books (albeit only a fraction of the 3,000 volumes he owned), and all the latest technologies. (But no indoor plumbing.) 

The house also contains a few photographs of Douglass. We learned that Douglass embraced photography and sat for hundreds of portraits, which he freely distributed. He was determined to use these photographs to combat the racial prejudices embedded in period drawings, which mocked formerly enslaved African-Americans. By the time of his death, he was the most photographed person in the 19^th century, second only to Queen Victoria. 

The four of us enjoyed the history, the tributes and — from the house’s perch on a hill in the Anacostia area of Washington, DC — a splendid view of monuments, churches and at least one baseball stadium. A docent led us around; I definitely took notes.

Bonus: In the absence of bathrooms, Douglass and his family naturally used chamber pots for nighttime needs. I was pleased to see, along with the squat, soup tureen-sized pots, several elegant models that rose at least 12 inches in height. Perfect for old hips and cranky knees.

October 27: At Kathy’s church, I stood in a circle of congregants to receive Communion. A young woman stood next to me. With cupped hands, she awaited gluten-free bread; I awaited the Communion wine (which had mistakenly passed me by moments ago). We stood alone, patiently and quietly, in our segment of the circle. Then I noticed her cupped palms and wrists: each intricately lined in still-vibrant henna. 

“Happy wedding,” I whispered. “Thanks,” she whispered back. “It was my own!” When I expressed delight, she explained that she had had an Episcopalian wedding ceremony on Friday and a Hindu wedding ceremony on Saturday.

I whispered congratulations and asked how long her henna ceremony had taken. “This was short: just three hours.” We smiled at each other, then received at last the bread and wine.

After church, my friends teased me for being so conspicuously chatty in the Communion circle. “Maybe you should have been praying while you waited??” “I dunno,” I replied.”I think God enjoyed our conversation too.”

October 28: ”Home is the sailor, home from sea,/And the hunter home from the hill.” (Excerpt from Requiem by Robert Louis Stevenson). C’est moi. I’m on a temporary break from my break-neck adventures. 

Tonight, as Kevin, Nate, Jeremiah and I returned home from a restaurant, we spied four cyclists peddling in the darkness. Clustered together, each had decked their spinning tires and spokes in bright lights: purple, pink, blue, green and yellow. The effect was delightful. Said Jeremiah: “It’s like Santa on a fire truck!”

October 29: As of this afternoon, I possess a brand new left knee! Having replaced my right knee in May, I now have a matching pair. Happily, so far I have very little pain, although PT starts on Thursday. . . .

Thanks to the skill of my surgeon and the infinitely patient care-giving of Kevin, I look forward to many pain-free years of squats, lunges, stairs — and even those groan-inducing low-slung chairs. 

October 30: My wonderful friend Allison brought me to my second SAAM docent training today. If one moves slowly enough — good docent practice! — and has cheerful friends (as I do), on the day after surgery one can be enthroned in the classroom with everything one needs: notebook, walker, leg-propping chair, ice water-circulating machine, and encouragement. 

October 31: History! Museums! Restaurants! Last weekend, my friends reasonably also wanted to visit the spice store Penzeys in Falls Church. While they shopped, I watched a gaggle of fourth- and fifth-grade boys playing under the canopy near the store’s entrance. Taking turns, each boy bent his knees deeply and sprung straight up. They were trying to touch the hanging Penzeys flags with the tops of their heads. (The kindergartner with them was allowed to take a running leap and use his hand.) 

The store manager approached the door. Uh oh. But he was heading toward me. “The Montessori school next door always sends the kids outside to do something active,” he explained. “This definitely counts.” 

Oh, and the flags hanging from the canopy outside? They say “Choose Love.”

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If you’d like to browse my past delights, please consult the “word cloud” featured at the very bottom of this post. Find a theme or two that interests you and sift through the sands. Or learn a bit more about my Blog by visiting my Welcome page. You’ll also see links to four essays that were published in print magazines. I’m glad you’re here!