I was supposed to make my annual trek to the mountain cabin today. I've been reduced to only going once a year with everything that has slowed my roll for the last few years. I was excited about it, too. But after the baseball game, wedding, and all other activities of the last week, my dreams of hiking in the mountains were crushed. Instead, I slept in the recliner until almost 11 this morning, and then cleaned house in sweaty pajamas the rest of the day. It was the day I needed.
Just because I couldn't go, doesn't mean the others stayed home. My older daughter went up with her dad, and they met up with our niece and nephew, who spent last night at their dad's cabin near Nederland. (I guess building mountain cabins is a Smith tradition--or it is now.) They had a great time up there, catching up better than they could at the wedding. Mr S-P showed off some of his toys to our nephew, who apparently had a lot of fun with the draw knife and new electric chainsaw. On the way back down, they stopped in so the cousins could show off my brother-in-law's cabin to my daughter.
They were so late getting back, I suggested we meet somewhere for dinner, rather than trying to cook. I was three-quarters of the way to Texas Roadhouse, when they started changing the hustle on me. I turned to go back and meet them at the house. Then they said no, meet at the restaurant. So I turned to go back. Parked, walked to the door, and saw it was closing that very minute. So I got back in the car and met them at the alternate restaurant they had suggested in the middle of my circle through town. By the time I got food, I didn't care what it was. I just wanted not to be driving around and around anymore.
I took one picture at the restaurant, but the others I flat out stole. I'm not sorry. I'll do it again, given the chance.
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