We went to brunch with our Wyoming guest late this morning. None of us was moving fast or early. Even knowing Lucile's was our destination, we couldn't be bothered to dress and go until after 10. The restaurant was fantastic as always, and we stuffed ourselves mercilessly. They each had all the gluten they could handle, Mr S-P got enough powdered sugar (on begniets) to power an entire kindergarten class, our friend got fish (which I also don't allow in the house), and I got to have grits without anyone making faces at me.
I was just sure, as we drove home, that I wouldn't be able to eat another actual meal today, and I was pretty close. I did end up having popcorn for dinner much later, because I was craving salt, but that was it. I needed to change from jeans to shorts, and sit in front of a fan while I digested, and do nothing else. Our houseguest left shortly after noon, but I stayed in the same spot, in front of the same fan, for nearly all day. I think I might have left my motivation at the restaurant.
The Mr had planned on this being another overnight build trip up at the cabin. He and Murray went up around 4, and as the sun set, we received pictures from the hill. Just as I had done, he discovered that motivation was absent, before he even made it to the parking spot. Our daughter and I assured him that it is perfectly acceptable to go to his mountain retreat just to sit in the quiet and cool air. Ain't nobody down here going to accuse him of slacking if he just drinks coffee on the deck and admires the view while Murray snoozes at his feet.
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