“You know, he’s put on 30 or 40 pounds since he got here.” – Celia, 67, on Mike Holmgren

I had dinner last night on Mercer Island with four lovely ladies in their 60s and 70s. Mary Beth made an amazing dinner that included melt-in-your-mouth vegetables. (Cut a butternut squash into chunkcs, cut up a couple beets and onions, drizzle with olive oil, bake at 350 for 45 minutes. It's like eating candy. Except it's good for you.) Celia brought her own blackberry manischewitz, and the rest of us had wine. Conversation ranged from how Borracchini’s is the best Italian bakery in Seattle (Remo lives on the island and is a good Catholic according to Tinker...) to the history of salt. They are also Seahawk fans and enjoy spotting Holmgren at the island QFC. They hope he stays in Seattle, but think his wife might have a couple things to say about this.

During the 4th quarter of yesterday’s game, I was at the Trader Joe’s on Madison, and they were broadcasting the game overhead. One more reason why we love TJ’s. The checker who rang up my groceries was an unabashed Brett Favre fan, crowing about the victory so close at hand (at this point there were 3 minutes left in the game) and I almost walked to another checkout. Who admits, during a hometown game, that they like the other teams’ quarterback? I hate agreeing with Rick Reilly, but I think we’re too nice about this stuff in Seattle. I mean, I’m not advocating shaking the life out of the checker, but I don’t think it should be socially acceptable for him to admit he’s a Favre fan without some dire consequences. A public hanging would suffice. Of course, then I would have to give myself slacker fan consequences, since I was running errands and not watching the game.