Spent the day at work with him - but nothing amusing to tell today, since I slept and played Gameboy the whole time. Except that it's very snowy out.
But we went out to dinner at Takaoka, which is the cook-it-in-front-of-you Japanese place in town where we go on very special occasions, and I wore my perilously short dress with my boots, and when we came out, there were people with a horse-and-carriage from one of the carriage-ride-places, and so we took a carriage ride because we had just barely enough cash between the two of us to pay for it.
I was going to write a whole long paragraph about riding in the carriage in the crisp, cold black of the winter air. I was going to talk about the arrhythmic jingle of bells on the horse's harness, and the clip-clop of the hooves in staccato rhythm against the pavement. I was going to talk about the bite of the cold on cheeks and ears, the warmth of the lap blankets, the way Angel kept his arm around me the whole ride, nestled up close to him. I was going to tell you how I couldn't stop grinning, even once we got our frozen faces into the car. I was going to talk about it. But...I can't. I lose the words in the magic of the mo ment.
It's been a lovely birthday, and the presents I got are nearly forgotten, swept away by the wonder of that carriage ride in the night, the magic of a half-lit room waiting to be seated at Takaoka. It's been...a lovely day.