return to salt lake

Well, I returned for a weekend. It was Sharon's birthday (happy birthday Sharon!), and the party was too good to miss. I flew out on Friday evening and back this morning. In between, I ate. A lot. We do that at our parties. I've missed being close to a dim sum place, and I had a nice Italian meal reminiscent of Anastacia's last major formal dinner. I also bought quinces. Who can resist a nice juicy quince at the end of October? (Almost all of us, I think. But I have high hopes that 'Stacia will do something with them.) Marie made a Queen of Sheba chocolate almond torte with creme anglaise. It was worth every one of those adjectives.

Back in New Mexico, we have jack-o-lanterns and last-minute Halloween costumes. We also have jiu-jitsu, my Halloween night activity of choice. I was going to apologize for my laziness in not writing by the lack of events around here, but that's a poor excuse. I have gone back to jiu-jitsu, which deserves a lot more ink than I've given it. Many thanks to Kris, who is responsible for provoking me (back) into violence. My first experience at the Santa Fe club involved the insane Brazilian three-time world champion, who had everyone else in the class carrying people around the room for half an hour. I did not participate. I do not approve of anything that could result in me dropping someone on the floor. As a girl, I was given a pass. (I play this card more than I should.) The actual fighting was a kick, though. I could barely walk the next morning.

Somehow the subject of matches and smokebombs just came up in the context of trick-or-treating. I don't want to know. This is my mantra: I don't want to know.