The last time we ate in a restaurant was March 7^th when we celebrated Peter’s 90^th birthday. Since then, we have had take-out pizza three times.  And I have prepared over two hundred dinners for the two of us to eat at home. 

So imagine how excited I was when we made plans to meet our cousins for lunch in New Bedford, Massachusetts, about half-way between their home in Jamestown, Rhode Island and our home in Cambridge, Massachusetts. We set a date and hoped the weather would cooperate.

Last Friday was the day.  It was a perfect late September day.  Blue sky, low humidity, trees at near-peak autumn color. Since none of us had ever been to New Bedford, we chose a restaurant online, based on the amount of outdoor seating its website said it had.

As luck would have it, the restaurant had a great patio with a view of New Bedford’s harbor. The temperature was ideal, and our lunch was delicious.

Not long ago, going out to lunch was an unremarkable event.  But after you’ve eaten only at home for more than six months, it’s a big deal to feel that life is almost normal.

At least for a few hours.