We slept late because yesterday apparently tried to kill us.
We woke up with just enough time to throw on our “exercise costumes” and sprint out the door like two aging superheroes whose only power is being late. We arrived, climbed onto the bicycles, and pedaled for several miles before the real fun began: being flung to the ground and folded into human pretzels.
Even though we were about 100 feet apart on separate torture devices, we could still hear each other’s heroic yells, groans, and dramatic farewell speeches as pressure was applied to muscles we didn’t even know we owned.
After surviving that wellness-themed assault, we made a quick trip to the market for essentials: bananas, milk, and whatever dignity we had left. Then we returned home to the glorious sound of Domilita and her magical staff of cleaning elves transforming the house while we tried to look useful.
Finally, we made a quick run to the UPS Store to ship a “care package” to Bonnie and the kids—because nothing says love like a box full of surprises and a shipping label.
It was warm today but not HOT; we still stayed inside!
Mary fixed a great lunch consisting of newly invented things like turkey slices rolled up with cheese (i.e., a turkey sandwich without the calories). She also made a wonderful salad directly from the garden!
The weather was perfect today!
Mary’s better each time she goes to class, and with Geri’s assistance, she is learning new tricks, like using Q-Tips to remove excess water! I still need to give her a little class in perspectives.
Mary finished her painting from yesterday!
I worked in the office beside Mary all day getting the video ready for Bob’s Birthday party, which is coming up soon!
The evening dragged on, and after heroically exhausting ourselves by sitting in the office and pretending to be productive, we shuffled off to the pool, where 90-degree water waited to gently poach our tired little bodies like luxury dumplings.
The night WAS peaceful!
We fiddled around for a couple of hours before returning inside.
The gazebo provided just enough light!
We’re still recovering from the Pageant of the Masters, so we heroically collapsed into bed at 10:00 p.m. Everything was peaceful… until 2:22 a.m., when Miss Grace decided it was time to debut her one-cat opera.
For such a tiny feline, she can produce sounds usually reserved for rocket launches, emergency sirens, and haunted Victorian mansions.
I stumbled out of bed, gave her the required royal pets, shook her dry food like a servant summoning the queen’s breakfast, and crawled back under the covers. Thankfully, I didn’t wake again until 7:30 a.m.—alive, but emotionally altered.
