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Jul. 23rd, 2007 06:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stormdogMy sweetie and I drove out to Lake Geneva for dinner on Friday to celebrate our anniversary. The date was actually Wednesday, but we wanted a little more time to go out for an evening than a work day would permit.
I looked for a restaurant to go to during the day at work and we settled on Carvetti's, a pleasant enough bar and restaurant with a fenced in outdoor patio that we ate on. The blue cheese and mushroom burger I devoured was fantastic; Andrea had a salad with at least as much blue cheese as my burger. The only complaint we had was that our waitress seemed to abandon us after we finished our food. We had to walk up to the outdoor bar to pay the bill.
After dinner, we walked around downtown Lake Geneva for an hour or two. It really is a beautiful place at night. I was never very interested in general city photography; then I saw the results of my first night-pictures shot there a couple months ago and they really changed my mind. Lake Geneva has a very active downtown on the weekends, and the milling people, electric-bright boats, laughing kids splashing in the dark water of the beach, and brilliant reds and yellows of old neon really jump out at me from the pictures I've taken there.
As typical as a single example of a hodge-podge of little cafès, ice cream shops, arcades, and other curiosities can be, this is the sort of place you're likely to see in downtown Lake Geneva. It's full of shops that are full of small-town uniqueness and nonconformity. We haven't seen the insides of many because we're always there during the late evening and night. One of these days we'll have to spend a Saturday or Sunday there, exploring.
Another shop along the main street running east to Kenosha and west to points beyond, I couldn't but think of the song of the same name by the Kinks when I saw this windowfront, not to mention Andrea's 'trannequin' down in the basement that she uses to model clothes for Ebay auctions.
Walking just a block or two south brings you to a large event hall, which had been booked by a large group of mixed ages in relatively formal garb. In front of it is a murmuring illuminated fountain that I somehow found quite soothing and engrossing. Just to the north, at the side of a road that had far more foot traffic than the wheeled variety that night, was a hitching post for a horse-drawn carriage. I wanted to take Andrea for a ride, but I didn't have cash the first time we walked by, and they had just closed up for the night on our way back through. That's ok; we have something to look forward to next time.
Just past the fountain, is a public promenade leading out to the docks on the lake where tour boats await passengers. It's fully enclosed; the event hall composes the ceiling, and there are shops, closed at the time of night we were there, lining the sides. On a sign outside a vendor of temporary tattoos, Andrea found one that was appealing.
And just to the east of the bright and busy hall was a quiet, fenced beachfront. The gates were left open and a few children were playing in the water with adults watching from shore. It was idyllic, like a scene from a book. Had I brought a swimsuit, I'd probably have gone out and joined them for a few minutes.
We walked on to the west and north, covering the area we'd been on our way to Baraboo a few months ago and more. I snapped a picture of a piece on display in an art gallery that made me wish for more time to take pictures of my mate. Though I can't produce the sort of beautiful picture that I saw there, one of my fondest wishes is to be able to produce pictures that show how beautiful my mate really is. I've started keeping a collection of paintings and photographs to use as inspiration; this one will be added to it.
While looking for places to eat, I'd suggested the Cactus Club. Based on the act that was there tonight, it's probably a good thing that Andrea wasn't feeling like Mexican that night.
Speaking of pictures that make my star look beautiful, look at all that breath-taking, beautiful hair. Not to mention a really nice ass.
We were out later than we should have been considering that we were both getting up for faire early in the morning, but I had a magical time and it was more than worth it. Thank you, dear one, for a wonderful evening and three amazing years. You are my magic.
I looked for a restaurant to go to during the day at work and we settled on Carvetti's, a pleasant enough bar and restaurant with a fenced in outdoor patio that we ate on. The blue cheese and mushroom burger I devoured was fantastic; Andrea had a salad with at least as much blue cheese as my burger. The only complaint we had was that our waitress seemed to abandon us after we finished our food. We had to walk up to the outdoor bar to pay the bill.
After dinner, we walked around downtown Lake Geneva for an hour or two. It really is a beautiful place at night. I was never very interested in general city photography; then I saw the results of my first night-pictures shot there a couple months ago and they really changed my mind. Lake Geneva has a very active downtown on the weekends, and the milling people, electric-bright boats, laughing kids splashing in the dark water of the beach, and brilliant reds and yellows of old neon really jump out at me from the pictures I've taken there.
As typical as a single example of a hodge-podge of little cafès, ice cream shops, arcades, and other curiosities can be, this is the sort of place you're likely to see in downtown Lake Geneva. It's full of shops that are full of small-town uniqueness and nonconformity. We haven't seen the insides of many because we're always there during the late evening and night. One of these days we'll have to spend a Saturday or Sunday there, exploring.
Another shop along the main street running east to Kenosha and west to points beyond, I couldn't but think of the song of the same name by the Kinks when I saw this windowfront, not to mention Andrea's 'trannequin' down in the basement that she uses to model clothes for Ebay auctions.
Walking just a block or two south brings you to a large event hall, which had been booked by a large group of mixed ages in relatively formal garb. In front of it is a murmuring illuminated fountain that I somehow found quite soothing and engrossing. Just to the north, at the side of a road that had far more foot traffic than the wheeled variety that night, was a hitching post for a horse-drawn carriage. I wanted to take Andrea for a ride, but I didn't have cash the first time we walked by, and they had just closed up for the night on our way back through. That's ok; we have something to look forward to next time.
Just past the fountain, is a public promenade leading out to the docks on the lake where tour boats await passengers. It's fully enclosed; the event hall composes the ceiling, and there are shops, closed at the time of night we were there, lining the sides. On a sign outside a vendor of temporary tattoos, Andrea found one that was appealing.
And just to the east of the bright and busy hall was a quiet, fenced beachfront. The gates were left open and a few children were playing in the water with adults watching from shore. It was idyllic, like a scene from a book. Had I brought a swimsuit, I'd probably have gone out and joined them for a few minutes.
We walked on to the west and north, covering the area we'd been on our way to Baraboo a few months ago and more. I snapped a picture of a piece on display in an art gallery that made me wish for more time to take pictures of my mate. Though I can't produce the sort of beautiful picture that I saw there, one of my fondest wishes is to be able to produce pictures that show how beautiful my mate really is. I've started keeping a collection of paintings and photographs to use as inspiration; this one will be added to it.
While looking for places to eat, I'd suggested the Cactus Club. Based on the act that was there tonight, it's probably a good thing that Andrea wasn't feeling like Mexican that night.
Speaking of pictures that make my star look beautiful, look at all that breath-taking, beautiful hair. Not to mention a really nice ass.
We were out later than we should have been considering that we were both getting up for faire early in the morning, but I had a magical time and it was more than worth it. Thank you, dear one, for a wonderful evening and three amazing years. You are my magic.
