Tacos and Sunny Days

Today is sunny, a rare thing here in the PNW lately, one of those days that makes me wish I had become a forest ranger instead of an accountant, but then I remember that being a forest ranger sort of involves working all year, not just on the rare nice day. I don’t function in extreme heat or extreme cold, in high winds, in rain or snow, so I’m rather limited. Still, if I could be a writer/accountant on the bad days and a forest ranger on the good days, that might work.

In Yuba City, which is not in the PNW but in California, there is, or used to be, a little taco place. There may be several in fact, but this particular one was housed in a Mexican market, and in bad weather the restaurant section was confined to the back of the store, with utilitarian metal tables. No frills, no amenities. But when the weather was nice, there was an outdoor patio with long wooden tables and servers who would bring fabulous food. I suppose they had food other than tacos, but since I always ordered tacos I’m not sure what that would be. They were the best tacos, and combined with the sunny springlike weather (in the spring, at least), it was my favorite place to eat.

When Stew and I were still just friends we’d meet there often, especially since we met in the spring. Later we’d meet in the summer, and that was good too. If it was a nice Saturday outside and my husband was sulking, which he did pretty constantly since he’d temporarily cut back on drinking, I’d call Stew and say, “Want to go have tacos?” and Stew, being Stew, would always say yes.

We’d meet, have tacos, laugh, talk about whatever on the shaded patio, and somehow my whole unbearable life became easier. I don’t know if it was the tacos, the sun, the company, or the break from the unbearable one, who had become a grumpy old man far before his time, but it restored me so I could go back to my work with a lighter step and a better attitude.

My work at the time wasn’t accounting but writing, which may have made it easier, or not.

Now when the sun comes out in that same shade of warmth, with the sky the deep blue of spring, the kind of blue you can’t find in the summer when the sky is a pale hot blue that tells me to seek air conditioning, I wish that taco place was here, and not 8 hours south. Charming husband and I could sit outside and have tacos on the covered patio. Heck, long as I’m wishing, Stew could be there with us, the three of us celebrating spring and another successful issue put to bed. But Stew’s not here, there are no issues to finish, and the taco store is far away, so Charming husband and I will make do with ourselves and the lovely spring, and count ourselves lucky.

Lucky, by the way, comes right after 10, if you’re really into counting it. I say forget about the counting and just go with it.