I was sad; my mouth was set for plum sauce, but we'd already set up our picnic by the time I discovered the offensively small amount of plum sauce, which I ended up just mixing into the box and eating with rice. Yes, I know, a tragedy! :P
We watched the trains, fed some semi-feral cats, and then took a nice long walk around the city (occasionally stopping to talk to people). The birds were all flocking in and out of the trees and making an ungodly racket (which made conversation difficult), and as the shadows fell, feline shapes began pooling around the bases of the trees. No cat ever goes hungry in our little city (and no, I don't feel sorry for the birds; there are a lot of birds, and nature takes its course. "Nature" also takes the mice, moles, and rats; one never sees vermin downtown, ever—and our pigeons are very fleet of wing, and our squirrels, quite fast).
After dinner, we took Albus to the dog park and let him run around after his squeaky ball before he eventually decided to socialize with the other dogs. Most of the dogs were on the fence closest to the road looking across the street at a pair of rabbits and several groundhogs. Not one of them notice the possum that was in one of the two trees in the park, which was good; the poor thing appeared terrified.
Once home, we spent most of the rest of the evening watching YouTube vids and canoodling. Just before bed, we had to chase a couple of v. young kids home; they'd been Pokémon Go-ing near the pond and were horsing around, and we didn't want to awake to drowned kids. Shog was determined to speak to their parents until one child asked him to help him with a phone-related issue, and by the time that was done (said child listened actively, asking Shog loads of respectful questions), Shog had decided that we could just watch them enter their home without talking to their parents. And men aren't prone to fall for flattery, no, not at all. :P
Saturday began with a drive to the coffee house. On the way, we saw the toilet planter (some lady has placed a toilet full of gorgeous flowers in her yard), and Shog asked, "So, do you know how to feel about that, now?"
I: I suppose that it's . . . a good thing to recycle.
Shog: That's not recycling. That's reusing. Reuse.
Shog: Reuse. Recycling implies—
I: It's too early in the morning for such pedantry.
Shog: [Entirely seriously] If not now, when?
While getting my decaf, I bumped into two of the kids to whom I read (their mom was dropping them off to be with their dad), and they bugged their parents until they agreed to let them stay for a story. They didn't ask me; they just assumed (rightly) that Story Lady was up for a read wherever they found her. Shog asked a bunch of questions during the story to try to fluster me, which delighted the kids. Finally, though, the kids made him stop.
Brother: Hey, mister. You should let Story Lady read. It's not nice to talk over people.
Sister: Yeah, but—
Shog: I'm Mr. Story Lady. I get to talk to my wife.
Sister: That's wrong. It's not Mr. Story Lady. . . . Oh. Wait. What's your name?
Brother: [Tugging on Shog's beard] That's almost like Santa's. Do you know Santa?
Brother: Are you Santa?!
Shog: I'm Mr. Story Lady.
Sister: [To me] You're Mrs. Story Lady Claus, aren't you?
I: I'm just Story Lady.
Sister: [Giggles] My aunt didn't take a boy's name, either.
Brother: [To Shog] Well, are you?
Shog: I can neither confirm nor deny that—
Brother and Sister: [Exclaim]
Adults in shop: [Laugh]
I: Shall I finish this story?
Brother: Yes, Mrs. Claus!
Sister: [Shoves Brother] She didn't take the boy name! She's Mrs. Story Lady!
After coffee, we went to the farmers' market, had delicious breakfast burritos (machaca, egg, potato, cheese, and salsa), and then shopped for the week. I got the most beautiful, glossy beets with mostly uneaten greens. They made a magnificent salad. Their roots are destined to become part of a beef and beet hand pie. I got some very pretty kale, as well; it'll be going into soup.
There was an adoption booth at the market, and dogs were everywhere. We meet a young, female GSP whom Shog couldn't stop talking to. She was lovely and very well-behaved, but only, I think, because she was stationed across from the pastry booth. Albus would have loved her, but Shog and I both agreed, reluctantly, that what with the elderly fuzzies, we don't have enough time and energy to deal with a second dog.
I attended to some chores when we went home, and Shog walked Albus, and then, quite unexpectedly, we returned to bed for Epic Napping. That was followed by more walking, a brief visit with neighbors, some Stranger Things (we've seen the first five eps), and then Shog went off to run his RPG while and I read aloud to Albus and the cats (I've been practicing voices for the kids).
Sunday, we had breakfast out, took a lovely drive through horse country (and OMG, at a wee market in the middle of Rich People, found a tiny! heat-and-eat shepherd's pie for $44.95! Shog wanted it; I reminded him that both of us knew how to cook cheaply and well), walked around the grounds of an old, falling-down church, napped by a stream (and woke up to wild turkeys!), and then went home to be with the fuzzies and watch some telly—it was a really good, relaxing weekend, without emergency or drama, and almost perfect.
Perfection would have been 1/4 cup of plum sauce. :P
I hope that you all had a great weekend! :D
P.S. Shog sends links: Same bat time, same bat place and a capybara with puppies!