And I have realized that 46 is both way too young to be an orphan and way too old for that realization to elicit any real sympathy. Trust me. They just look at you funny.
So Alan took me out to dinner at Pazzo where we sat on the patio and I realized that it is easier to be an orphan a 46 than at, say, 6. I don't know what 6 year-olds do to feel better. But at 46 year-old can have a gin and tonic before dinner. A whole buncha wine with dinner. And something, I dunno, maybe it was pink after dinner.
And then tumble into bed and wake up the next morning with a badly pounding head. And that, that gets you the sympathy you've been angling for.
Dinner was very nice. We sat out on the patio and watched to world go by while sharing an antipasto platter of local cheeses, Niagara-region prosciutto and home-made pickles. Yummy!
I had the striploin and Alan had the veal chop. They were cooked to perfection and accompanied by roasted vegetables for me and some lovely sauteed greens for Alan.
Alan finished his meal off with an Espresso Mousse. He even offered to share, but the portions are generous, so I had to say no.
I always enjoy my dinners out on the patio at Pazzo. They're not cheap. For the cheap and cheerful (and still very good) head to the basement for pizza and pasta.
But there's just something so wonderful about eating outdoors, especially as the summer draws to a close, that makes it worth every penny.
As we were heading into town, I realized that, yet again, I had forgotten to bring the camera. We did have Alan's camera-phone, but it was not co-operating. So we didn't get any pictures Saturday night.
But we did head back Monday morning to take a picture of the front of the restaurant. So just imagine it with tables and people, bathed in a soft and fading light:
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