1/3 of 90

One down, two to go...

Tax Day came and went. I'm thirty now. I could write a thoughtful post about the passage of time and all that rot, but I won't. Here are a few pictures instead.

John didn't have to work the day before my birthday, so the girls and I took a break from school. Right after I tucked the girls in for naptime, my mom poked her head through the door. John had arranged a surprise, it's-the-day-before-your-birthday date for us. He completely surprised me (it's not that hard), and we took off, just the two of us.

It was a very good day. Here are the few pictures I took.

We went bowling. The last time we bowled together was on our honeymoon, so this was awfully fun, even as the lonely man on our right bowled a series of strikes, which made my gutter balls seem more gutter-y. In fact, I don't think I saw him bowl anything but a strike the entire time we were there. Neither John nor I broke 100, though John came close. (He whupped me seven years ago, too.)




Then he drove us to a fancy Indian restaurant. FANCY! I haven't dined often in fancy restaurants (this is the second; remember the first?), and I always feel a bit nervous, but this restaurant was wonderful. John's parents gave us a plump gift card for Christmas, and it was so much fun to choose whatever we wanted from the menu.



We began the meal with shrimp poori. The shrimp was the size of my head.


Followed by potato curry and mulligatawny (lentil soup). Sorry-- we ate the soup before I took a picture. So you can imagine it, the color was brownish-green. Above is the potato curry.


John ordered the tandoori mixed grill, A.K.A., an intimidating platter of sizzling meat. My favorite of these was the reshmi kebab. Oh, yum.


I confidently ordered chicken vindaloo (enter stage left), not knowing exactly what it was. The waitress asked, "Um. Do you know how spicy it is?" I hadn't, but I told her we liked spicy food. We do. It was delicious.

We had yummy leftovers for lunch the next day, and then some. Thank you, Mom-Owen and Dude! Now if only I could discover a way to replicate these dreamy dishes in my kitchen, we'd be set.

Lastly, the requisite serious portrait of Self in Public Restroom, Presumably Resting.

Look at that 29-year old, never again to walk this earth. She looks so YOUNG!