I heard a woman calling today. I really hoped to hear “Polo!”, but instead, I heard “He’s coming back soon!” And when he came back, his mother (I presume) said, “I’m making macaroni and cheese for lunch, okay?”, which is funny, if it’s true that Marco Polo brought pasta to Europe.
But here he is, with his buddies.
Yes, definitely no parking going on there.
But then you can look at this photo from the next door over.
I was attracted to the messiness of spring in both photos. It reflects the hope that tries to cover up our frailties.
Or otherwise, in search of the Marco Polo of the future.
Should I make pasta, then, in everyone’s honor, and especially following a week without? Or will leftovers be sufficient?
I think I’ll finish baking my first challah after Pesach now.
And perhaps, some e.e. cummings.