I was about to curl up with a good book and read myself to sleep, when I noticed what I had NOT done, nor had I even thought about. I have been having such an amazing weekend that I barely gave a passing glance to this nightly ritual. I know that over all this is a good thing, but I am afraid of breaking the chain, because this is a habit I never want to lose. I am tired, sore, and still ridiculously full from dinner, but I will not give myself a pass.
Speaking of passes, I very nearly had a meltdown at the automated entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park this afternoon. My annual pass, that I received from RMNP (this makes a difference) refused to swipe and lift the gate, while four trucks were in line behind me. I tried it more than ten times, and nothing. I was about to climb out of the car and beg a ranger for help when someone walked up from one of the trucks behind me and used his pass to open it. It was purchased last October, like on the 29th or 39th, and it wasn’t due to expire until November. But it just refused to cooperate. After being turned away from the Fall River Road entrance, and this snafu, I thought surely we were over the rough patches. But not a hundred yards into the park, every car imaginable was stopped while people took pictures of a bull elk just sitting under a tree. I wanted to stay back, get one shot and leave. But that was the point the ranger came, and blew a gasket about everyone, and started yelling to get back. Everyone was already keeping a significant distance, but he was making such a fuss, if the elk got spooked, it would have been from him. We left while cranky butt ranger was still stomping around, and when we returned, he was gone, and people were far closer than any of us had gotten. Whatever, dude. I swear, I have never had as much of a negative experience in the Park as I did today.
I don’t know what universal harmonics were off, but I was actually quite relieved to be down from the hills today. It was just so unpleasant, which is odd. By the time we made it to town, I was tired and my knees and feet were swelling. I just needed to sit with my feet up. But I was determined that while my Oklahoma family was here (mother still lives there and daughter was born there), then it was time to make that most Okie of meals, chicken fried steak and gravy (now with 100% more chickpea flour and zero added wheat!) I shopped for the ingredients, but by the time we reached the house with it, I made one stumbling trip, laden with all of the bags from the trunk, dropped them on the kitchen floor, made a quick detour to feed cats, and then parked my tired rear end in my favorite chair for the remainder of the night. Luckily, I am not the only woman around here who can make this meal, and I was allowed to sit and wait for the swelling in my knees to abate while dinner was made for me.
Tomorrow is a big day. I see the doc for Botox to make my migraine symptoms go away (oh please, oh please!) and then we all will get tarted up and go watch Eddie Izzard up close and very personal. Now I’m back to the book I was about to retire with, his autobiography. So without further ado, I believe when I last left him, Eddie was telling me about Christmases during his childhood. Tell me more, Eddie!
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