Happy holiday

Mother’s Day was extra-special fun yesterday, thanks to Snaotheus and KrisDi. After breakfasting with Grandma, who was complaining yet again that her little amp wasn’t working (this time, she’d managed to break the earbud) and later nearly fell asleep in her plate, we considered a couple of options:

  • bungee-jumping down at Deception Pass;
  • parasailing out in the straits;
  • checking out the Lady Washington, which was in port; or
  • hanging out.

After due consideration, we went with Option 4. Surprised, eh?

We took one of the bottles of wine I got when we went winery-touring, picked up some cheese at Haggen’s, took along a corkscrew, some wipes, napkins, little plastic cups, and a knife (if only Snaotheus had thought to bring the Swiss Army knife his leedle brudder gave him. . .) and went to my park. We went a little ways back on Blue’s Favorite off-lead trail, found a big log a little off the trail, and took our goodies back to have lunch. It took Blue a few minutes to get the hang of *not* going on down the trail; I’ve never just sat down and let her muddle around before.

It was one of the loveliest times I’ve had in a while. Warm, but not too warm; shady and beautiful in the woods; not too many people wandering up and down the trail despite there being quite a large crowd at the park; and of course, excellent company. We’d managed accidentally to get cheeses that went really well with the wine, so everything was hunky. Until I accidentally poured somebody’s last bit of beer from a discarded can on the remaining cheese, trying to be a Responsible Citizen. But that’s another story.

Snaotheus rescued my window screen from its hiding place under the deck; KrisDi warned me against ever setting foot on my deck again; we all got some garden plants; we did a few little chores (one of which turned into a fairly large PITA); and we went to Panda Palace and ate Chinese for dinner. Yummmmmm.

And how could I forget—KrisDi brought up a scrum-yumptious cheesecake slice, just for little ol’ me! 🙂

Northwood called, so visited with him a bit. And we all suppose that the Bassmaster is still alive. Somewhere. Possibly even in the Western Hemisphere. We think.

Posted by wordsmith

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