It was a pretty good weekend. The Mrs. and I enjoyed some quality time together. We also did some things all by our lonesomes.
Friday night, the Mrs. made chicken soup. You might think this doesn't sound exciting. But you're never tasted her soup! It was worth the wait. We also allowed Mr. Oreo in the house. Something we never do, because Oreos have a tendency to disappear very quickly. We held back, though, because we had a lot of soup. So those Oreos still in the package will live to see another few days.
Saturday morning after dropping the Mrs. off at a church seminar, I headed down to the Troutdale General Store to talk politics, land use, and local gossip with the usual cast of suspects. It's what I do just about every Saturday. You never know who will show up, or what mood people will be in.
The first topic is almost always "Did you see what so-and-so wrote in today's Gresham Outlook?" For instance, discussion of articles in Saturday's Outlook included noise at McMenamin's concerts,a pending purchase of the "Pig Farm" property by McMenamins and the Reynolds School District, and letters to the editor regarding the new FedEx regional hub.Sometimes all I hear is how f****d up the Troutdale city council is. Fair enough, right? People are entitled to their opinions. Sometimes they're right. More often than we'd like to admit!
We spent yesterday afternoon/evening with the in-laws. We talked about the Seattle Mariners, flowers, recipes, the Miss America pageant, how every one's fig trees were producing, car problems, church, the weather (Of course!), and WHERE TO GO FOR DINNER.
Do you have that conversation with family members? Where should we go for dinner? The delicate dance of trying to make everyone happy. No one wants to jump in first with a suggestion. They don't want to get shot down. Second suggestions? Usually 100% affirmation. Just don't be first to suggest a place, that's my plan. Me, I'll eat anywhere except the Roadhouse or Red Robin. Yuck.
We ended up going to a Chinese food establishment. It was a little scary because a woman in the booth next to ours wore full blown Dracula makeup. And she looked like she wasn't pretending to be a vampire, from where I was sitting. I kept one eye on my mu shu pork, and one eye on Countess Dracula.
After coming home from dinner, we completed the evening by sitting in our backyard, enjoying the proverbial adult beverage. While the sun extinguished itself on the horizon, and our dog rolled in the grass, we toasted to our good fortune and called it a night.