All I Can Talk About These Days. The weather.

It was an experience I had anticipated for a while, it seemed like such an honor to go, to be invited. My coworker friend A was having a rice-feeding ceremony for her son, a traditional Indian right of passage. It's been such a quiet few months since the holidays have been over and the sky has been dark and cold and all I've ever wanted to do after work is hole up in my apartment. Going off to the depths of Queens to a Hindu temple filled with incense and colorful shrines to the many dieties of the religion, crowds of women and children swathed in sumtpuous silks making that certain celebratory screech that I swear, it must be a genetic gift to be able to do it at all... It was just what I needed. Like flowers blooming in Elmhurst, the day of chatting and eating-I-know-not-what and smiling, it rang in the following day of sunshine and jacket removal and a serious buzz outside as brunches were consumed on the sidewalk instead of indoors only, in the most perfect way ever. Then of course today we're back to rain and gray skies and a chill that almost, ALMOST, makes me give up all hope that those crocuses are poking their heads out of the ground for any reason whatsoever.