We have become those people, who sit on blankets, eat hummus, listen to jazz, and drink sangria. With age, I believe class like that just slowly creeps into your life. Before you know it, we will be drinking carbonated water, wearing plaid shorts with sweaters tied around our necks, and eating escargot. Yeah, that sounds like a legit theory.
What led us to become those people? It was an evening in the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden, where every Friday a different jazz band plays. Locals (and you might see some tourists) migrate here after a long workweek to listen to jazz, unwind, and prepare for the weekend. As for me, I maybe didn't have a long workweek, but I was designated as the spot holder. Yes, an intense and difficult position, where arriving early and being territorial is a must. No worries, I was successful at completing this important task, and many of our friends were able to join PDub and I on this jazzy evening.
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| Life is good. |
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| Our sculpture location. |
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| Do I hear a jazz flute? |
These are the moments that we will cherish, the ones in our nation's capital spent with close friends. Sorry, we will have to say goodbye to such evenings, but I am sure we will find a place for new moments in our new home.
