Last week bunny_hugger's parents had their birthdays, one after the other, a feat of organization that even my family (with people born September 26, October 27, and November 28) has to envy. We'd wanted to have dinner with them, naturally, though between work and pinball league --- and a Free Play Day at the second pinball league's location on Saturday --- we couldn't arrange that until Sunday.
They arrived late, relative to normal, because of the bitter cold and because they're increasingly worried about the dogs. The dogs' health has been ``frail'' for so long that ``frail'' would be an improvement, but somehow, they keep going, which is inspirational except for making you wince to see it. bunny_hugger started a fire before they got over, because it's been too long since we had one and they'd refuse if we offered to start one after they arrived, and that did some nice work in burning up pieces of wood that I myself had chopped just as if that were a sensible thing for me to do. Our pet rabbit spent the day flopped out in one of his litter bins, which probably just reflects the hour, though it might have been motivated by the cold of outside leaking in too.
We went to a nearby Italian restaurant for dinner, one that bunny_hugger's father asked I make reservations for even though it was only 5:30 pm and the place was not busy at all. The food was decent though the service slow, which, bunny_hugger noted to me, it always is every time we go there, raising the question of why they try going there about once a year to complain about the same things. I felt a bit bad for the restaurant --- sure, it was after Valentine's Day, but it was still a Sunday evening and shouldn't that be tolerably busy? But then it was also bitterly cold; our local hipster bar --- just across the street --- didn't even open for the day, announcing on Facebook that it was too cold to even, so they weren't.
They couldn't be coaxed back inside after dinner, so we had the rest of the fire (well, the restarted fire) to ourselves in the terrible, terrible cold night.
Trivia: In 1870 Ceylon exported over 110 million pounds of coffee. By 1880 it exported half that, and by 1890 less than a tenth that. (The coffee plantations were hit by a fungus, and opened the door to tea plantations.) Source: Tea: Addiction, Exploitation, and Empire, Roy Moxham.
Currently Reading: The Man They Wouldn't Let Die, Alexander Dorozynski. (That would be Lev Landau.)