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View From Your Table

James C., doing what he does better than anybody else: No, not on another vacation—only a bit of Saturday shopping at a market an hour north of Cambridge. Weekend train tickets away from London are very cheap, fortunately! Haddock and chips (£5) at the seaside. Can’t get more English than that. Rod here. For us, […]
The Wash, Hunstanton, Norfolk, England
The Wash, Hunstanton, Norfolk, England

James C., doing what he does better than anybody else:

No, not on another vacation—only a bit of Saturday shopping at a market an hour north of Cambridge. Weekend train tickets away from London are very cheap, fortunately!

Haddock and chips (£5) at the seaside. Can’t get more English than that.

Rod here. For us, last night was sublime. Some dear friends invited us up to their farmhouse, far out in the country. They had bought some rosé wine on sale at Calandro’s supermarket in Baton Rouge, and wanted to know if we wanted to come up and hang out and drink cold wine. Of course we did! We sat in our friends’ garden, incensed by the sweet, faintly banana aroma of magnolia fuscata blooms, under the canopy of stars, drinking cold wine and admiring the first fireflies of the season. It was such a perfect moment that I couldn’t stir myself to go into the house to fetch my iPhone to shoot a VFYT. Some moments need to be left alone.

That’s what I tell myself this morning; truth was, that wine was so good, and the conversation with that company even more intoxicating, that I was too stumbly-wumbly to move too far with any confidence. We all know that the punishing Louisiana summer heat will be upon us any day now, and we can’t quite believe how blissful this spring has been. It has been like observing a monarch butterfly perched on the tip of one’s nose: you are so awed and grateful for it, but you don’t even want to blink for fear that the slightest false move will chase it away.

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