Dinner was delicious and fun (if you're ever in Mountain View and desirous of some Indian food, I highly recommend it) and we then proceeded to Rick's Ice Cream in Palo Alto. A small, unassuming little place, I had a triple scooper of rose, lemon/lavender and kulfi (a combination of rose, saffron and pistachio). I decided to forego the green tea and the white chocolate ginger as I am incapable of eating that much ice cream.
While we were standing in the ice cream shop getting our various scoops, a man wearing tuxedo pants, a tuxedo shirt and suspenders with musical notes on them came in for a pre-concert scoop. The Harper asked him if he was playing in a concert or just so in love with music that he wore it all the time, and he good-naturedly told us that he was playing in a concert at the school auditorium to the other end of the school that was just next to the strip mall where the ice cream shop is situated.
We took our scoops outside and talked and laughed and it came out that Ironhorse Mike's mother's name is Rosemary.
I have just had dinner with Rosemary's baby.
I was not even over that shock yet when I looked inside the ice cream shop and noticed that the long-haired, long-faced youth with the soft voice and the trace of accent who had served us our ice cream was now strumming a guitar while sitting on a stool behind the register.
I had been served ice cream by Arlo Guthrie.
We laughed about that for a couple of minutes when a very nicely-dressed woman came rushing up to us asking us where a certain address was located. She held out little pieces of paper to the Harper who said "Are you going to the concert? It's in the auditorium at the other end of the school next door." We were in agreement that the universe is very economical in its functioning. The man hadn't told us his name or what instrument he played or what vocal part he had, or even what the concert was. He had told us nothing more than we would need to tell this woman who had passed three other people sitting on a bench near us to ask us, the people who had the information.
And then we got home. Time to take off the makeup and put on the pjs. I had put on some false eyelashes because I had bought them the week before on a whim and this was the first time I would get to wear them. I had also bought a tiny bottle of special rubber-cement solvent to dissolve the glue you stick them to your head with. I had put the eyelashes on the bathroom counter and was opening the bottle of solvent when the cat jumped up onto the counter to check out the action. I shooed him away, but looked down to see only one little bodyless spider laying on the bathroom counter. I cried out in dismay, causing both Peaches and the Pirate to crowd into the bathroom (between me and the cat) to see if they could be of assistance. "Get out of my way!" I yelled, elbowing them in my haste to chase the cat who was running as best he could, but felt compelled to stop every couple of steps and shake his right front paw. I finally cornered him and grabbed his foot, peeling the poor eyelashes from the pad of his paw. A little solvent and a quick rinse and they were none the worse for their adventure.
Quite a night, all told.