The fast... and the curious

Last year, as in all prior years, I broke the fast with Chinese food (or pizza or some such ordinary and unmemorable treat) by my own lonely, sitting on the couch. And then, as in all prior years, I picked a fight with Chris and burst into tears.

Because the holidays were dreadful alone. Fasting was dreadful alone. Breaking the fast olone was bad, and the only thing worse was breaking the fast with people who hadn't been fasting.

But last night, after fasting all day (though I must admit to brushing my teeth), I went down to the Motley Cow Cafe to break-the-fast.

I'd called Dave (the amazing owner of the Cow) a few weeks before the holidays, to see if he might arrange a little price-fix for the fasters. Dave is an angel, and he'd even offered to make lox! I told him to expect 10-15. I crossed my fingers.

And then like, 21 people showed up!

Yep. A full house!

Margaret and I went to the Cow and met up with 20 other people. And everyone ate gravlox and frittata and almond cake with sliced apples and salad and toasted nuts and homemade hummus. And I drank a little too much (considering my totally empty belly) and chatted and laughed and it was incredible!

I met new people and I saw people I never see. I felt...

Well, I felt like the day was special... like...

like it was a holiday or something. And better than that...

It was a holiday, and a few other people knew it was a holiday.

It felt like a little community. Sigh.

I missed my family, but I didn't cry even one little tear.

And when I got home, Chris had done all the laundry and walked the dog and fed the animals and the house was clean. And I crawled into bed and slept.