Backwash and Extreme Cooties

The beauty of my day would be all the people who supplied what I need.

There was the friend willing to walk to Big Secret at the crack of dawn (10:50) for sandwiches from Nate's Bagels, thus ensuring us first place in the line.

I took my everything bagel with a schmear of scallion cream cheese and he took his baker's wife on an everything bagel before we made our way to Saadia's Juicebox for the first offering of the Mozart Festival.

Situated on a cushion on the floor with a skylight view of a treetop blowing in the wind, we heard a flute duo, the Chamber Chicks ( a quintet of woodwinds) and an octet arrangement originally written for six and since transcribed for eight, because, as one of the oboe players noted, it was obvious something was missing.

More cowbell oboe. Two were added.

There was the IT geek friend willing to assess my computer needs with only a few instances of mocking my ancient computer, slow Internet and complete cluelessness when it comes to ram and operating systems. Fortunately, he determined my needs are small and easily satisfied.

Then there was the sextet of friends - couples, all - who gathered with me for a Rhone wine dinner at Camden's, one which began as a lesson on E Guigal (a winery and negociant, notable for being hands-on and not the silver spoon types) and ended up as conversational free-for-all after all the other guests had vacated the premises.

In between, we ate like we were hiking the Appalachian Trail, beginning with Comte, house baguettes and toasted walnuts accompanied by a Cotes du Rhone Blanc with a mouthfeel so soft, the friend with the green eyes said, it was like a pillow she wanted to sink into.

From the newlywed about her husband's house improvements: "He got wine drunk and ordered bidets."

A Rose from Tavel played up the sublime smokiness of house-smoked N.C. trout peeking out under a micro-green salad with champagne and caper dressing.

From the Claudine Longet fan about our server, the VCU Prof: "She used to make us martinis the color of moonlight."

Everyone was ga-ga for housemade sausage with wilted spring greens (their bitterness a stellar counterpoint to the sausage's richness) paired with Cote du Rhone rouge

From the musician who'd called me last week about Robyn Hitchcock's appearance at Plan 9: "Matthew Southern Comfort's is the best version of "Woodstock."

"Hermitage" made roasted ham and sage-stuffed pork loin shine and the friend who'd returned from South Africa with 21 bottles of wine in his suitcase deemed it his favorite wine of the night.

From the man with the dangling ears: "That's a civilized mob if they get paid in Rose."

Not that anyone at the table had any room left, the final course of sour cream-topped lamb stew over dumplings served with Chateaneuf du Pape was magnificent - earthy, rich and more than capable of standing up to lamb even by this late point in the festivities.

From he who shall not be named about how people pre-gamed before the wine dinner: "She ate lasagna and I did tequila shots."

I did nothing of either sort, but as we've established, my needs are small and easily satisfied. Just not often enough.