Yep. You’ll want to click that bigger.

I’m writing this post on Sunday before Big Evening of Oscars, so there will be no Oscar talk today. Probably never. I only watch the Oscars for the fashion and Oscar food. It’s a tradition. I’m shallow that way. I’ve only seen two of the nominees for Best Picture anyway — American Hustle and Gravity. I did see films in other categories that did not make Best Picture nominees.

Enough about me and the Oscars.

Yesterday, I went to brunch. Pigging out on a variation of eggs Benedict and mimosas seemed a good idea at the time. It was a date. Okay. I can’t even remember the last mimosa I sipped. Eggs Benedict is another matter. It is my brunch date guilty pleasure.

Mama Weather dropped another four inches of snow on us Saturday night, along with more bone-chilling temps. By Sunday late morning the sun was shining, the eaves were dripping, and I was in the mimosa zone, so I didn’t care too much.

Standing at the edge of Frenchman’s Bay with the sun shining in my eyes, I wasn’t sure what I was getting with the click, but I was hoping it would be that bright, red ball and that shrink-wrapped boat.

That’s a pretty good date view in Burbville.

And the first Monday in March sails in.

Elen