Today I flew to Kansas City to visit the friend I have known the longest. Maggie and I met singing in the alto section of the Santa Barbara City College chamber singers back in…well, a long time ago.
She reminded me of the performance dresses we wore. We must have looked a sight singing the Verdi Requiem in pink, lavender and burgundy with mutton sleeves and they most certainly clashed with my yellow VW bug and crazy Irish setter.
Over the years, we have shared many a cup of coffee in greasy spoons.
Back then we looked for spots with ten-cent unlimited refills.
If we had had enough money, we surely would have bought pie too. But, coffee is all I remember.
I’m not sure how “greasy” those spots are now as the last time I went “home” our favorite haunts were looking pretty upscale.
While here in KC, the plan is to make a fresh rhubarb pie for Maggie’s husband Doug in exchange for a chiropractic session.
Sounds like a great trade to me.
Doug agrees with me, that rhubarb pie should not be too sweet in order to taste the fruit.