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Long days, in all the best of ways
Jun. 24th, 2014 03:37 pmThe weekend just past. Yes, please, more of that.
We decided against the big party on Saturday (too much driving and people, not enough gumption and psychic real estate) in favor of beginning-of-Summer activities closer to home and mental budget:
* A quick stop by the library's used bookstore to donate the three bags of books we'd culled from our bigger-than-the-available-shelfspace collection last weekend.
* A completely useless run to the local farmer's market, which consists of two farmstands and a whole lot of miscellaneous other, which was not what we needed. Our previous trip had landed us some awesome grass-fed beef and eggs and asparagus and scallions and kale, but the pickins were slim this time out, so we left empty-handed. Booooo.
* A trip to the beach. This was a Worcester-flavored beach instead of a Boston-flavored one, which meant a 50-yard stretch of sand off the lake in a residential area, but it suited us just fine. We swam, we basked, we yelped in frigid agony when we stepped in the water and shivered in the breeze once our skin was wet and tried to remove extraneous sand to no avail. Needless to say, it was perfect. Also, it amazes me just how strong a memory trigger is attached to the smell of Coppertone sunscreen. (Which, by the way, I am never allowed to apply to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rain_herself again after leaving swaths of her skin accidentally untouched by the stuff, which made her burn in random spots while remaining sysprog-pale in others. She weren't none too happy.)
* Five Guys cheeseburgers, which I'd been craving like gangbusters while we've been avoiding wheat-touched anything, washed down with Original Sin hard cider, right there on the sand. I nearly cried from the beauty of it all.
* Ice cream from Gibson's Dairy. Every town has That One Ice Cream Place, and this is Worcester's. Totally worth the drive. Gibson's is also the place that provides our milk delivery. (Oh, yeah, speaking of: we have a milkman now. His name is Tony. He seems to have a thing forrain_herself. I don't mind living through the setup for a tawdry smut novel; I'd just rather it weren't so cliche.)
* Solstice ritual for two. Nothing complicated and nothing I feel inclined to discuss in detail, except to say that if all goes the way we'd like, the coming years should be extraordinary. Also, cast iron cookware is awesome.
* The first half of David Fincher's Zodiac. Going into a murder mystery knowing how it'll end [SPOILER: it won't] doesn't make one much want to finish it. If Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo aren't enough to get one's brain buzzing, it's time to cut bait.
* Sleep. Not to be undersold.
* Sunday? Sunday was pretty much spent in bed, or the equivalent. Take that however you will. You're not likely wrong.
Gods. A good weekend. Loving. Loved. That sort of closeness you learn to keep an eye out for, but don't find it nearly as often as you'd like. Yes, please, more of that.
We decided against the big party on Saturday (too much driving and people, not enough gumption and psychic real estate) in favor of beginning-of-Summer activities closer to home and mental budget:
* A quick stop by the library's used bookstore to donate the three bags of books we'd culled from our bigger-than-the-available-shelfspace collection last weekend.
* A completely useless run to the local farmer's market, which consists of two farmstands and a whole lot of miscellaneous other, which was not what we needed. Our previous trip had landed us some awesome grass-fed beef and eggs and asparagus and scallions and kale, but the pickins were slim this time out, so we left empty-handed. Booooo.
* A trip to the beach. This was a Worcester-flavored beach instead of a Boston-flavored one, which meant a 50-yard stretch of sand off the lake in a residential area, but it suited us just fine. We swam, we basked, we yelped in frigid agony when we stepped in the water and shivered in the breeze once our skin was wet and tried to remove extraneous sand to no avail. Needless to say, it was perfect. Also, it amazes me just how strong a memory trigger is attached to the smell of Coppertone sunscreen. (Which, by the way, I am never allowed to apply to
rain_herself again after leaving swaths of her skin accidentally untouched by the stuff, which made her burn in random spots while remaining sysprog-pale in others. She weren't none too happy.)* Five Guys cheeseburgers, which I'd been craving like gangbusters while we've been avoiding wheat-touched anything, washed down with Original Sin hard cider, right there on the sand. I nearly cried from the beauty of it all.
* Ice cream from Gibson's Dairy. Every town has That One Ice Cream Place, and this is Worcester's. Totally worth the drive. Gibson's is also the place that provides our milk delivery. (Oh, yeah, speaking of: we have a milkman now. His name is Tony. He seems to have a thing for
rain_herself. I don't mind living through the setup for a tawdry smut novel; I'd just rather it weren't so cliche.)* Solstice ritual for two. Nothing complicated and nothing I feel inclined to discuss in detail, except to say that if all goes the way we'd like, the coming years should be extraordinary. Also, cast iron cookware is awesome.
* The first half of David Fincher's Zodiac. Going into a murder mystery knowing how it'll end [SPOILER: it won't] doesn't make one much want to finish it. If Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo aren't enough to get one's brain buzzing, it's time to cut bait.
* Sleep. Not to be undersold.
* Sunday? Sunday was pretty much spent in bed, or the equivalent. Take that however you will. You're not likely wrong.
Gods. A good weekend. Loving. Loved. That sort of closeness you learn to keep an eye out for, but don't find it nearly as often as you'd like. Yes, please, more of that.
