On Friday night, I was transfixed listening to Dave Brubeck coaxing jazz with his unique time signatures from a piano on stage right—at 88, he riffs playfully, hunched over at first, then gracefully moving from one end of the keys to the other—
And I woke up this morning thinking about what I might be at 88; likely, I will still attend morning yoga class, sport millinery and other headgear, and, I hope, keep company with shimmering, silly friends like the ones I joined today at a tea room.
You might think a visit to a tea room a bit staid, boring even; not the case when dissecting cake varieties with Jenne, Jess, and Al.
Presenting today’s cakes at the “Famous Tea Room” of Cauley Square in South Florida:
And here is our esteemed panel’s reaction to the lemon cake’s decoration:
On a serious sugar crescendo, we exited the tea room to admire the tall topiaries of ladies with parasols,
and swan topiaries that seemed to need a bit more attention.
Feeling as though we were wandering a movie lot, we found fountains,
that Jenne performed a shawl dance near,
and music from hidden speakers that sent Jess and Jenne spinning.
I learned that honey is an always food (it never expires);
Jess found stars,
that upon closer inspection look like webs,
and then we were off to nearby Redland Market—the flea market with food vendors:
sacks of beans and spices,
Jess buried her face in cilantro,
and laughed with Jenne at our sugarcoaster of a day, loud laughter that I hope will continue at least until we are all octogenarians…