Miercoles

I was feeling pretty loose and limber in the morning, so I did some stretches, squats, push-ups, and sit-ups. It was too bad we only got to do yoga once a week with Grandpa; if only the class could have been held another day!

For breakfast, true to my word, I made an omelette for Daniel (and another one for me). I thought it turned out nice and tasty, though Daniel said it was a bit too oily. !@!#!*#)!*@!@!!!!!!!!!@!(*&@(!* WELL! THAT’S THE LAST OMELETTE I EVER MAKE FOR HIM!!@!@!**!*!**!*!&@!^%!

After breakfast, I read my scriptures and played the piano a bit, then went for a solo bike ride while Daniel and Grandpa went golfing. I can’t tell you anything about the golfing, but I do have pictures and videos—enjoy!

Grandpa in action. Take cover!

Well, I can see why it's called the green.

Golfin' guys.





The bike ride was wonderful. I rode my way out of the neighborhood—possibly the first trip where I’ve actually figured out how to get in and out of Brent Mead!—and went up and down a couple of formidable hills on the way. Feeling adventurous, I rode along the sidewalk on Concord (the big bad busy street) to River Park and retraced our trip from the previous two bike-riding days. And I loooooved it! The weather was perfect, I wasn’t ever really lost, and got to visit all the places I remembered from the last two trips. At the old school house (where we joked Uncle Bill went as a kid), I stopped and went to look inside. I saw some papers on a board and an old picture of George Washington, and the door had a lock on it, so I wondered if it was still occupied. The outhouse was torn up and empty, however, and there wasn’t any bell outside. The scene was very cute and quaint, and reminded me of Christy. About halfway through, I decided to nickname Becky’s bike “Hwin,” since I’ve always liked comparing my bikes to horses and since it seemed like fast and feminine, and since it had “Schwinn” on the side. Hopefully Becky doesn’t mind. After finishing my ride, I stopped in the river for about 10 minutes or so to splash around, skip a rock or two, and soak my bug-bitten legs in the water.

I had to ride up a steep hill to get back to Brent Mead, but I used the sidewalk and traffic lights and didn’t have any trouble with cars. A woman in a car stopped me just as I was turning into Brent Mead and asked if I lived there (stupidly, I said yes), and if I knew if there was a Senior Center. I was pretty sure there wasn’t one inside of Brent Mead and said so, but really couldn’t help her and wished I hadn’t said anything and that she had consulted the Internet first and that she would go away instead of just sitting there in her car waiting for me to say something else. Finally, she drove away into Brent Mead anyway, and I rode home.

I ate lunch at the Hughes. It was, as I perfectly recall nearly a week later, a delicious sourdough turkey/mustard/tomato/cheese sandwich with broccoli and carrots. Ha! Just kidding. I wrote that down last week.

After lunch, I went home and showered, then slept/read until it was time to go to Baskin Robbins for an ice cream outing. Hooray!!!!!!!! I remember this being a tradition of sorts whenever Grandma and Grandpa used to visit us in Georgia, and I still have fond memories of the Baskin Robbins there. I was planning to get my usual favorite, strawberry, but on a whim got a delicious looking chocolate cone that Becky was also having. It claimed to be world-class something or other, and I’m not sure that wasn’t a lie (insert *wink* at Grandpa), but it was quite good. After our ice cream was gone (and it was all too soon…), we went home and I got Grandpa to take me swimming again at the rec center. Anyone keeping track of how many times I’ve been so far? Oh well, it was fun as usual, even though the water is rather salty and the lifeguards always look bored stiff. I’m putting the butterfly stroke into my repertoire and enjoy making myself tired doing it, although I still feel not very good at it.

After I swam either 59 or 61 times across the pool and Grandpa finished 3 puzzles, I got out and we drove home. At my request, Grandpa told me what Dad was like at my age, and told the story of Dad’s college years less favorably than I had heard it before; however, I was glad to get Grandpa’s perspective. Dad himself would be the first one to tell me he isn’t perfect—although I don’t want to believe it—and I still am proud of him for all the accomplishments he has made, and more important, the father he has been. Life isn’t easy, and the people in my family are hard workers and survivors.

At home, I took a quick shower and we all went out for Mexican food at a place called Las Palmas. I’m not a huge fan of Mexican food, and I had no idea really what I was ordering, but I did like the enchiladas and the beans and rice. Grandma and Grandpa both let me have some of their dishes when I couldn’t finish my own meat-packed burrito. We also had lots of water, tortilla chips, and hot/drippy salsa. Olé!

Andy on his best manners.

Becky and Daniel.

My name is Ruth and I will be your...photographer!

After dinner, we went home and I did some reading in my room for a bit before going over to the Hughes to use Aunt Shelly’s computer while the others played badminton outdoors. Aunt Shelly and Becky came home from a church meeting a little later, and we watched a movie recommended by Aunt Susie called “Waking Ned Devine.” It was an entertaining if rather shocking comedy about a tiny Irish village and two old men who try to claim the lottery on behalf of another old man in the village who had the winning ticket and died of shock when he saw it. It was comic and silly and improbable, but still fun, and it had Susan Lynch, who I think is one of the most beautiful actresses ever (she plays Rebecca in Ivanhoe). And skinny old men acting silly and speaking in Irish accents is just so cute.