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Friday, November 09, 2007

Just Like Old Times

Well, sorta.
Before baby, when Jimmy and I were living the city life in San Francisco, every evening after dinner we'd walk to our local Starbucks for coffee and a treat. It was a ritual we both enjoyed and it got us out of the house to further enjoy our fabulous city. Man, thinking back on those days makes me miss 'the city' so much and sometimes mourn our old life.
We lived within walking distance to at least six "buckies", as we so endearingly called it. But since we left San Francisco, we haven't been so lucky. And every trip to Starbucks became an adventure (rather, a pain). It usually meant driving through snow, tredging through snow or nowadays, driving because there was NO way I was walking in this ridiculous heat. Since San Francisco, the lure of Starbucks is still there, but the fun of going to get it was gone.
But tonight we venutured out again. After dinner, we loaded Bheady up in her stroller and walked the walk to Starbucks. It wasn't nearly as exciting and didn't have the same 'feel' it used to, but the warm night was perfect for a leisurely stroll. And Avery's always up for an outing.
We returned home and wound down like we normally do before putting Avery to bed, but it was nice to somewhat capture what we used to have. It's just that tonight we had the added entertainment of a silly baby. It couldn't have been better.
Just to add to our trip...I was the first to order my Starbucks beverage. I placed my order, gave my name, selected my treat, then Avery and I went and sat outside at a table. Jimmy ordered his beverage and treat, paid and waited for our warm delights to be ready before coming to join us. We got a good chuckle out of the name the barista gave him on his drink. See below.


Mmm...a nice warm buckies

Popping the top

She's definitely our kid. All about the Starbucks.

Trying to put the top back on

Licking off the imaginary whip cream

Heh heh. They even spelled my name right.

1 Comment:

  1. Grandma said...
    That was very sweet . . .

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