Tuesday

Last words about this weekend: we were introduced to yet another really interesting Indian restaurant. This is a little dive called Delhi Dhaba, oddly nestled in an alley down behind a Subway sandwich place. The Subway faces Wilson Boulevard about a block down from the Court House Metro station, where we've been to the Irish pub and the crappy movie theater. The big yellow Subway sign lists the Indian restaurant in little letters to the side. Delhi Dhaba is neat in that it's no-frills cafeteria-style Indian fast food. And cheap. It is primarily a carry-out place, centered around a middle-sized buffet representing the menu du jour. Dine-in food is served from that buffet into sectional plastic TV dinner trays or on paper plates with plasticware. The pressboard paneling in the dining area is a deep, well-oiled brown. I had the dal makhni, some samosas, and rice, plus some raita and pickle; Sunshine got a combination platter with three main dishes and nan. I liked the place: there was not a whiff of exoticism. I felt like this was the closest I have ever been to eating this stuff the way I would if I were actually in New Delhi, where Indian food is just, you know, food. On to the present: these last couple of weeks I've been getting used to having a very popular pool in my front yard. By roughly ten in the morning, the place to be is out there splashing happily about. Not that the pool is really that much closer to my window than anyone else's, but where the Play Place directly beneath my balcony used to attract eighteen vocal locals at any given time, the pool certainly attracts eighty from all over the neighborhood. Oh, there's new pictures from New York here. [Cavin]