la-di-ta

Temperatures last night bottomed out at a welcome fifty-something degrees, so that when I woke groggily to the insistence of my alarm this morning my apartment registered at a blissful fifty-nine. With the sun filtering through slowly yellowing leaves on the street outside my living room window, and yellow-brown leaves scattered over the sidewalk, it definitely bespoke the coming of autumn.

Colder weather brings out the best in me. I like summer while it lasts, but the heat and the humidity make me feel bloated, lethargic, and stupid. When I wake up and get cold feet walking across my kitchen floor to put on the kettle, and the air bites at my bare legs, I feel energized, chipper, ready to take on anything. I think I'm going to get up an hour earlier on these fall mornings so that I can take a long constitutional in the vinegar-tangy air before work. My ideal temperature is sixty-five, my ideal day a late September Saturday when I can dig out my shapeless red barn coat, stuff the pockets with apples, and wander at will through the trees.

On a social note, tonight begins the inception of La-Di-Ta ("Living Alone -- Dining Together"), a single women's dinner group started up by Colette and one of her coworkers. Six women comprise the group, and every Thursday we shift hostesses and get together at one gal's place for a sit-down-together-and-chat meal. Everyone brings something so the hostess only has to worry about the entree.

Tonight I'm in charge of dessert. My oven knob caved, so while I'm waiting for my spastic landlord to replace it, I'm cooking a lot of soup, stovetop curry, and cold food. For tonight's sweet-tooth indulgence I selected a Mango Yogurt Ice recipe from my vegetarian cookbook. Everything went smoothly; I just have to stop by the house to make sure it froze as it was supposed to. I'm not sure it's enough for six women, so since I'm doing my laundry before dinner and the laundromat is located in a Martin's plaza, I'll swing by the grocery store for some mixed fruit.

I'm actually terribly nervous. I do very well cooking for myself, but I've never made anything sweet for anyone besides my Ann Taylor coworkers last Christmas (I'm not a big dessert person, so I never make any for myself). I want it to taste good, to turn out perfectly, and to be enough for everyone. But I'm sure the ladies will be forgiving in the event that perfection is unattainable.

Here goes!