That is about all I did this weekend. I hope there's nothing wrong with me! Chuck says he's not surprised, given the way I was burning the candle at both ends all week.
We did very little this weekend. We had a little get-together for people who want to go on river trips this summer. We looked at different rivers in terms of when they have the best water flow and when the odds are best that we might be able to bag a permit. Then we set dates and went online to put in for permits for the Selway R., the Salmon R.,(both Middle Fork and Main) and the Hell's Canyon section of the Snake R.. We filled out mail-in permits for the Yampa R. as well, and found out what the call-in rules are for Desolation Canyon. I was going to make chili and cheesecake brownies for the permit party, but remembered when it was too late that I had left all the ingredients neatly packed in shopping bags in my fridge. My big culinary plans quickly changed to packaged cookies and chicken soup we concocted from some stock Chuck had made the week before.
We walked down to P & G's house last night to give them the river trip dates, and hung out to watch the Red Green Show with P. G went out dancing with a girlfriend and invited me to come along. Oooh, I really wanted to; but on the walk down I had slipped on some ice and fallen hard on my shoulder. Just at that moment, I could barely move it. I begged for a rain check, an Ibuprofen and an ice pack, which Chuck and P secured in place with strapping tape.
Otherwise I read, dozing off frequently. Not exactly the dynamic and exciting woman I want to be, huh? Yet, I feel my eyelids growing heavy AGAIN!
I am at the house on Aloha Rd. Chuck is at work. He has only one more week to make last minute changes to the emergency shelter he and his partner Roi are building from a shipping container, before Roi has it shipped to New Orleans for a disaster preparedness trade show. Today, they are fitting the solar panels onto the roof - a two-man job. I am sprawled on the antique opium bed in the living room, listening to the Bluegrass show on KRCL. The only other sounds are the small peeping noises Scarlett the rose-breasted cockatoo makes to herself. Chuck's friend Cliff is downstairs in his part of the house. The intermittent yelling must mean "football game".
I must stir myself before I get drowsy again: straighten things up a bit; bake brownies from mix to surprise the guys; sew on my quilt for a little bit?