On Wednesday night, I ate dinner on my balcony. This probably isn’t a shocking statement to anyone who doesn’t have to spend winter wearing snow boots and trying to keep track of your mittens. But for people in places like the Midwest, the first time you eat outside (after months of being cooped up behind winterized windows) in the spring is practically a holiday. Seriously. There should be a “Congratulations! You pulled your patio furniture out of storage!” card. Wednesday night did feel a bit like a celebration: a good bottle of Medoc, a good dinner that involved asparagus and
bacon, and a good friend sitting with me on the balcony. Oh, yes, that was definitely my favorite moment of the week.