Saturday was just about perfect.
I accompanied Ingrid to a meeting of the Puget Sound Stereo Camera Club (at the Federal Way Senior Center?). We were immersed for three hours in a dark world of 3D slide shows, polarized glasses, and heated discussions about Nimslo and Stereo-Realist equipment. A couple showed some fine 3D slides from a trip to India, which were topped by a beautiful series of 3D images from another member’s six month solo bicycle tour of Ethiopia. At the end of the meeting, someone dusted off their Viewmaster projector and Ingrid showed a couple of her Viewmaster reels. The reel she did for the Turn-ons, classic bored band photos, was met with polite confusion. The landscapes recieved some appreciative nods.
In the afternoon, there was time for relaxing in the sun. The sun! Seattleites shed layers of clothes on clear but chilly days, we walk around trying to talk each other into believing that it’s a nice day. But this was genuinely nice – sunny, hot, blue skies, green grass, blooming flowers, kids picking dandelion and blowing the seeds away. Nice.
And Saturday night, Ingrid hosted a Scotch tasting. We sat in the living room and listened to bagpipe jazz. We didn’t read Robbie Burns to each other, so much as we occasionally waved around a library discard copy of his complete poems. We discussed the subtleties of each bottle: “This one is kind of . . . peaty.” “I think I detect a hint of peat.” “There’s a flavor here that I can’t quite put my finger on . . .”-“Peat?”-“That’s it!” I decided on Saturday night that I like Scotch, though I was a little less enthusiastic about it on Sunday morning.