Perfection

Yesterday was my 43rd birthday.  I had bunches and bunches of happy wishes from family and friends and former students.  I received some very sweet, unusual, thoughtful gifts.  It was a good day.  A very good day.

But, last night was wonderful.  We started the evening with dinner at Farmers Gastropub, a local restaurant featuring locally available foods and, a rarity in Springfield, I'm afraid, one that offers actual vegetarian meals (by that I mean they are vegetarian on their own - not just something with the chicken left off of it).  I had the Vegetarian Cassoulet with crusty, crunchy baguette and a salad with homemade honey dijon dressing.  As a special treat, Askinosie's Chocolate Gatte for dessert.  It was luxury on a plate.  Decadent.  Divine.

The Jane Monheit concert was fabulous.  Ask Bruce and he can tell you without batting an eye that my favorite music is jazz and my favorite combination is a trio of piano, bass and drums.  He also knows I'm a sucker for words - lyrics, poems, monologues - whatever.  Words, words, words.  Ms. Monheit's vocals were sultry, spunky and sumptuous.  She performed many of the standards with her own personal style and plenty of scat.  There was nothing I didn't love about the concert.  The sweet swelling music and the sweeter still sentiments brought tears to my eyes there in the darkened theatre and I felt very much alive and so grateful for life and love and the thrill of romance.

I'm a fairly well disciplined person.  I watch my diet, I exercise, I am faithful to my Creator and faithful to my spouse, loyal to my family and friends.  I am careful to be temperate in all things.  But, once in a while, indulgence in the sensuousness of rich food, sweet song, and soft kisses stolen in a lingering note sung on stage is. . . perfection.