We are climbing the walls around here, so it was nice
to escape to the Catskills for a weekend.
There's plenty of snow there too, but hey, it's country snow.
I haven't been in ages, because the pipes burst and
our kitchen flooded and had to be ripped out, too depressing to see.
But it's almost back together now.
The waterfall is frozen, which always amazes me,
the water rushes so fast I wonder how it stops in space and time,
what is that instant when water becomes ice?
Saturday we drove to Table on Ten for breakfast.
Conde Nast Traveler wrote about them in this article on food in the Catskills,
which made me suspicious, but the article does a pretty good job of describing
the western Catskills, our neck of the woods.
And there were eggs with brilliant orange yolks
and fresh sourdough bread, and delicious treacle cookies.
Saturday night we had dinner with friends,
and Sunday I made the rounds in Margaretville, where I had my store,
saying hello to friends and buying a few books at the Bibliobarn.
And then home Sunday night, to cats, books, and a pink quilt
that I am disproportionately fond of.
Remember the greenhouses in my last post?
I brought home some begonias. Touches of pink
brighten up the bleak late winter.