Peekskill's Ruchi's of India has become one of my favorite restaurants more so for the wait service than the food quality...though, the food prepared is nicely done and good, the time spent with Karthik....is a well worth effort as we learn more about each other and what we have in common.

Finally, we shared personal phone numbers.

Things are going so fast these days I can hardly keep up with changes that persist. Yet, on this day, February 19, I remember one man in particular with warm hands and a warm heart. Jack Strang, one of my favorite people in creation, was born on this day in Minnesota.  Jack was born with the prettiest blue eyes I had ever seen, a wonderful smile and a ponytail he wore his hair when we first met in San Francisco at Bank of America where we worked in the same Division but under two different department managers in Residential Lending Program.

At first, I had no interest in Jack. None whatsoever since I was in a relationship (as if that mattered) that was on verge of ending. That relationship did end soon after my affair with another was discovered shortly after the San Francisco vs Oakland World Series and Earthquake that left my relationship in shambles.

Along with his warm hands, heart and beguiling smile, I was instantly excited when Jack would undo his ponytail and shake his curly hair that fell down to his shoulders before my eyes. All the time grinning boyishly.  Every morning at work he made me dark French roast coffee with a pinch of cinnamon and delivered it to my desk.  I got so used to that, I expected it Monday-Friday, and was moody if he was in a meeting and forgot his duty.

How could I not adore him eventually?  In those days before all of our lives changed and we all moved on elsewhere, we had so much fun at 201 Mission Street in spite of the Charles-Jack office/afterhours scandal that left no one scarred.

So Happy Birthday Jack. I will never forget your warm hands and warm heart...

Created after the Rico/other person disturbing queerness at Peekskill Plaza: Monkey Face Snow Man is their father on the coldest night I ever felt.

At home up the hill, I welcomed isolation listening to Ellington-Coltrane and far away from them while the wind howled terribly outside...

It's supposed to snow until 3 PM. That's practically all day.  A good thing as far as I am concerned. Let it snow, let it snow. I like feeling it coming down in my face as I walk through snowflakes floating down.  As the wind picks up clumps of snow fall from the treetops and its many limbs.  It is a beautiful sight to behold that makes me smile.

From my upstairs window, I like looking through the tree limbs and seeing all that whiteness framed through the dark bark of the trees.

What's great about winter is that everything hidden in summer by green leaves cluttered on the hillsides is prominently exposed.