Small things in life

Kasha and I went to Roots yesterday for a lovely get-together. There’s some restaurants where it seems like the perfect place to go when you want to set the mood just right. It’s a vegetarian diner in Bloomington with live green plants in the windows and booths and tables made of wood where you can see all the knots and live growth of the wood. And since I eat there so much (probably 3 times a week), all the servers are acquaintances of mine which always seems to lead to great service. Win-win situation.

And what’s awesome to me about eating at Roots is that no matter who I take there, the connection always seems to be perfect. There’s never a worry about weirdness or being too romantic or too hopeful or too overpriced or too much expectation. It’s the very kind of place a person can be oneself. For some reason, I equate cloth napkins as being the type of accessory in which a person has to act slightly differently than their “normal self” which is one reason I like to eat at places with disposable ones. But I don’t like fast food cause it’s too unhealthy, too cheap, often times: too dirty, and most of the employees have little incentive to keep things clean and awesome. Roots is the perfect alternative. It’s quick enough so you don’t feel like you’re waiting forever for your food. It’s long enough so you have time to communicate with your friends without rushing. It’s clean enough that you could eat off the floor. And it feels like a mom and pop type place except run by twenty-somethings.

After Roots, she and I went to the Dharma Emporium where we bought some oils, a tie-dyed Bloomington t-shirt, hemp necklaces, books about the mind, and a trippy poster. Then we went to a restaurant/bar/shopping place called “Farm” so we could see what all the hype was about. I bought some organic soaps and candles and checked out the menu for later use. A bit expensive for what they were offering. For a simple hot veggie dish, it was $18. Some things went as high as $26, which in itself isn’t a lot of money, but in Bloomington it is. We made acquaintances with some of the workers and had a few free samples and listened to some “Me and Mrs. Jones” music playing over head. Their bar seems pretty hip. Must go back.

When we went to her place, we waited till darkness then took a walk to a nearby lake where we heard the most beautiful sounds of animals in the grass and water but couldn’t make out what type of animal we could hear. It almost sounded like geese and frogs but could have been something different. Listening to those animals was pure magic… and quite musical. Then we spotted what we thought was a black cat but at no point could we make out details. We made the assumption that we thought it was a cat based on the fact there were times at which it appeared there was no grass. By using the process of deletion we were able to make a valid conclusion that where there was no grass, there was darkness. And that darkness moved in the shape synonymous with that of a cat.

It’s the small things that really count.

Love
Isabella
xooxox