Last night
after we signed the contract, Neil wandered about retrieving his stuff from its hidey holes. He greeted these things like long-lost stuffed animals - "Oh, junk mail! Never again will you be thrust so unceremoniously into a trunk every morning. Ah, foot cream! I now rescue you from your prison under the bed. Now I will put you right on top of this
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And possibly popcorn with goose fat.
All also things that go well w/ champagne. We actually bought a bottle of Bollinger w/ the excuse that we would open it when we sold the house. We should probably wait for the closing, but after the past month, a sparkly, fizzy night is definitely called for.
Unfortunately, for oysters on the half-shell we have to go to a fish market that is impossible to reach on a weekday w/o leaving work early. Though I may drop a hint to Neil, who said he may have to go home to clear the driveway, due to continuing snowfall throughout the day.
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