I'm still at war with myself over what an acceptable level of activity is. I overdid it yesterday with one lap around Walmart. Today's too much involved going out to lunch. This is not to say it wasn't worth it. It was just more than I should have done.
A friend and fellow agent came by this morning with a gift of food and conversation. She made enchiladas for us to bake for dinner. We hadn't seen each other for a few months, and for ages before that because our meetings had been all remote for so long. We were back to masking and sitting far apart, but it was lovely to have her here to get caught up. I chickened out of eating the super hot pepper from her garden that she included with the meal, but I did alert my Scoville champ son-in-law to try it. He will give it a whirl.
Moments after she left, another friend came by with her teenage son, and we went downtown for lunch. It was the first time I'd taken advantage of one of the extended seating areas along Main Street--or more accurately on Main. They scooped out parking places in front of several restaurants this year, rather than closing the entire right hand lane in both directions like last year. I commented near the end of our meal that with constant car traffic a few feet away from our table, it felt like being on a very slow amusement park ride. They decided it was the Lazy River Restaurant. I kind of liked it.
Once I got home, I needed a second Benadryl and a nap, while the Mr met a bunch of our friends for a bike tour between breweries. They are still at it as I write. Not sure whether to be concerned yet. Probably, but I choose not to be.
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