I wasn't the only one suffering from cabin fever, and was so happy to go as Joel and Judy's guest last night to Bones for dinner. Bones is up in Pleasant Valley, on a narrow road that goes up to Sly Park and the back way to Tahoe. Given the skull-and-crossbones signage and "Bikers Welcome" billboard, it's pretty obvious what the original intent of the owner was for this little hole-in-the-wall bar and grill. There are so few eateries in our area, the locals have discovered the terrific hamburgers and onion rings, and now, if there is such a thing, Bones is an "upscale" biker bar. They have a wine list! The parking lot was packed last night with Range Rovers, SUVs, pickup trucks, and motorcycles. The ladies in the foursome at the next table had salon hairdos, earrings, coordinated jogging suits. (Myself, I dressed for warmth.) Bones does not provide napkins; a roll of paper towels stands on the table. It's just impossible to be neat and tidy while eating a Bones juicy hamburger. We got to talking about all the delicious, unhealthy things we ate as kids. How did we ever survive? While we may not eat those things now, each of us could vividly remember the wonderful taste of the calorie-laden, cholesterol-causing dishes we were fed by our parents. I suppose I should apologize to my own Kids for having served them some of those delicious dietary no-nos.
Leaving Bones, we noted that we could see stars for the first time in days (nights), and that it was going to be a cold one without the cloud cover. Driving home, we were headed directly toward the rising moon, which had gotten full while we weren't watching. It was a moon that would have inspired Spielberg to send E.T. home again, huge and bright.
It's twenty-six degrees this morning, and the skies are clear.