It is December and it is warm. I woke up this morning with the windows wide open to the splashing traffic below thinking of ice cream. Eggnog ice cream and warm, pine-scented rice dumplings. And that made me think of you my dear friends.
Joan and I took a long walk after our sauna in yesterday’s drizzle to Prosperity to share jiaozi with plastic forks from a styrofoam plate on a sticky counter. Five for a dollar. The cuffs of my sweater are stained with dumpling juices. I consider last week’s orgy of xiao long bow. I can kick this dumpling habit anytime, but who wants to? I am wallowing in juicy pork filled packages to assuage these shorter and shorter days.