Weekend crap
May. 1st, 2006 09:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonwiseLast week was busy busy busy. We had a new instrument installed, so most of my time was spent with the service tech, learning about the instrument and how to run it. He left on Thursday, and Friday turned into Let's All Blow Off Work and Go Out To Lunch Day.
Anyway, husband and I left on Friday evening to go to upstate New York to visit with my aunt for a biking trip. We had horrible traffic on the way up thanks to scads of New Yorkers headed to the Catskills for the weekend, but it finally cleared up and we arrived around nine or so. We spent a lot of time talking about the whole Florida issue over wine and pizza, so.
The bike ride was very pleasant. I had had some trouble with my front derailleur on Thursday afternoon, so I was nervous about the bike breaking down out in the middle of nowhere, but it turned out fine. Saturday morning, we met up with my aunt at her barn where she was having a dressage lesson with her horse Corky. There were promises of a barn cat for petting, but Buddy was nowhere to be found.
We drove to the trail head and unloaded the bikes. My front wheel didn't go on quite right and one of the brake calipers was dragging, but luckily there was a small bike shop nearby and the proprietor fixed the bike for me. The trail itself was nice and flattish - only a small grade - and the spring scenery was lovely. At one point we passed a small farm that I swear belonged to Old McDonald, with a cluck cluck here and a baa baa there (geese, a rooster, chickens, a llama, a horse, guinea hens - quite a menagerie.) We had lunch in Millerston, and I thought I lost my cell phone, but I didn't.
Steak for dinner, and then my aunt took us to a local market for ice cream. We each picked up our own pint, and mine was called "Crumbs along the Mohawk:" graham crackers in graham cracker ice cream with caramel. Pure crack. It's a good thing they don't sell that kind of ice cream in my area, or I'd be fat as anything.
We went for a second short bike ride on Sunday, again after my aunt's dressage lesson, and this time Buddy was available for an extended scratch and cuddle. Beautiful brown-and-black tiger cat, stripey all over with white just under his chin and big green eyes. My aunt said that he doesn't get a lot of attention, which makes no sense to me, because he was such a beautiful boy that I don't know how anyone could resist petting him for hours on end. Either way, he purred like motor, and the paws were going, and I almost stole him right there.
The ride home was much more pleasant than the ride up. We got home just in time to watch the very end of the rebroadcast of the F1 race, and then I spent the rest of the afternoon tidying up the apartment. My parents called late (for them) and they still don't have a house in Florida to move to after they close on the 22nd of May. Not My Problem, though I continue to puzzle over how unconcerned they are about mooching off of their friends.
This week should be a bit busy, as the big local rummage sale takes place this weekend, and I'd like to have my own small sale in our front yard to get rid of worthwhile items like the ginormous microwave we received as a wedding present. If we made a hundred bucks on the weekend, I'd be happy.
Anyway, husband and I left on Friday evening to go to upstate New York to visit with my aunt for a biking trip. We had horrible traffic on the way up thanks to scads of New Yorkers headed to the Catskills for the weekend, but it finally cleared up and we arrived around nine or so. We spent a lot of time talking about the whole Florida issue over wine and pizza, so.
The bike ride was very pleasant. I had had some trouble with my front derailleur on Thursday afternoon, so I was nervous about the bike breaking down out in the middle of nowhere, but it turned out fine. Saturday morning, we met up with my aunt at her barn where she was having a dressage lesson with her horse Corky. There were promises of a barn cat for petting, but Buddy was nowhere to be found.
We drove to the trail head and unloaded the bikes. My front wheel didn't go on quite right and one of the brake calipers was dragging, but luckily there was a small bike shop nearby and the proprietor fixed the bike for me. The trail itself was nice and flattish - only a small grade - and the spring scenery was lovely. At one point we passed a small farm that I swear belonged to Old McDonald, with a cluck cluck here and a baa baa there (geese, a rooster, chickens, a llama, a horse, guinea hens - quite a menagerie.) We had lunch in Millerston, and I thought I lost my cell phone, but I didn't.
Steak for dinner, and then my aunt took us to a local market for ice cream. We each picked up our own pint, and mine was called "Crumbs along the Mohawk:" graham crackers in graham cracker ice cream with caramel. Pure crack. It's a good thing they don't sell that kind of ice cream in my area, or I'd be fat as anything.
We went for a second short bike ride on Sunday, again after my aunt's dressage lesson, and this time Buddy was available for an extended scratch and cuddle. Beautiful brown-and-black tiger cat, stripey all over with white just under his chin and big green eyes. My aunt said that he doesn't get a lot of attention, which makes no sense to me, because he was such a beautiful boy that I don't know how anyone could resist petting him for hours on end. Either way, he purred like motor, and the paws were going, and I almost stole him right there.
The ride home was much more pleasant than the ride up. We got home just in time to watch the very end of the rebroadcast of the F1 race, and then I spent the rest of the afternoon tidying up the apartment. My parents called late (for them) and they still don't have a house in Florida to move to after they close on the 22nd of May. Not My Problem, though I continue to puzzle over how unconcerned they are about mooching off of their friends.
This week should be a bit busy, as the big local rummage sale takes place this weekend, and I'd like to have my own small sale in our front yard to get rid of worthwhile items like the ginormous microwave we received as a wedding present. If we made a hundred bucks on the weekend, I'd be happy.
