seeing the sun

It's so much easier to get back into the weekly grind when the time between the cyclical task and toil is fun-filled. Brunching, window shopping and cocktailing on Saturday and Sunday is fuel for the next five days. And I feel like I'm starting Monday with a pretty full tank. It was such a high to get outside and walk around downtown for the first time in months. The sunny sky and mild temperature brought back to life the inner-animation that winter kind of kills. Saturday Emily and I joined the ranks of people stumbling out of their cold-weather comas for a bite at Bassett Street Brunch Club. The staff was friendly—while perched at the bar, several servers jumped in on our chatter which felt very "Cheers"—the service was quick—our meals arrived before we could decide which daily doughnut flavor to sample (but slipped in a maple-bacon as dessert)—and the energy was high— booths were bustling with UW students curing hangovers before heading out to incur new ones that night. Creative, unstuffy touches—like dubbing the breakfast drink list "Wake Up Calls"—give the place personality. And that's all I'm really looking for on the weekend. That kind of spirit and the impervious delight of my Saturday is something Alice Herz-Sommer had all her life. The oldest known survivor of the Holocaust, Sommer passed away Sunday morning in London. Her peace is something to hold onto. The documentary of her story is nominated for an Academy Award—catch it before the show airs Sunday!

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