I miss the snow. I miss the way it crunched beneath my boots. I miss the pebbly beachfront at Le Havre, desolate in the middle of a dark winter. I miss the skyscraping Eglise St. Joseph, the tallest building in the city. I miss our kitchen-counter gatherings while the daylight slips away outside and you can see the construction crane alit with festive lights in the dusk. We would all stand about smoking in the kitchen, and drinking wine.
Forgive me, I am in a European state of mind. Perhaps I am beginning to feel a little yearning for the other side. The unfamiliar. Because right now, home seems a little strange to me. Home is nothing more than four walls and a roof over my head.
The winter menu is available at Mariner's again this year. With a dull pang I remembered the time Max and I went there one cold winter's night for a three-courser and a glass of wine. Just the two of us. And he kept me pretty darn warm.
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