Fashionista

A couple of weekends ago, Steven and I took care of the DGD for two days and two nights.  She is cuter that cute and I had more oxytocin running through my bloodstream than is legal, I am sure.  It felt illegal anyway.  I was JUST SO HAPPY.

For some reason, DGD decided that the tote bag hanging next to her stroller in the foyer was hers.  
 We took a walk Sunday morning before her parents returned.  She insisted on dragging the bag along after filling it with her bunny and her tiger, a bathtub toy and some squiggly spongy thing.  Very important cargo, no doubt. 

 She clutched it in her lap once she climbed into the stroller.  Even when she nodded off and the dang thing slipped, getting tangled in the wheels, she wouldn't let it go.  NO!  MINE!

Remember the Fourth!

My cycling partner lives a half mile down the road and up a hill.  Our DHs cycle together as well and this morning I heard Steven on the phone:

"Oh, yeah,  She's really tired from yesterday.  She won't want to do that."

I put down my book and sternly admonished him

"DO NOT speak for me."

He handed the phone over.  I would like to say meekly, but he's used to me.

S. was at the other end.  "I am going to be lazy today."  So I knew a bike ride was off.  Her back was out from an over exertion at the Boot Camp exercise class from last week.

I suggested a walk and we agreed on 1000 AM.

At 0950 I  started out for S.'s house.  We were meeting part way on the road.  I wanted to set the "calories burned" icon on my new Garmin Vivoactive HR fitness tracker.  It was a gift from VW.  They cheated us you know.  That big, international, multi billion dollar, German car maker.  Turns out the "clean diesel" was a BIG FAT LIE.  VW sent out a Good Will package.  Five hundred dollar gift card.  Like that's gonna make a difference.  I spent mine frivolously with glee.  The HR ate up a chunk of it.

Our road is pretty well traveled and we headed back up the hill past S.'s house and up and up and up the dirt road then down to a junction. Turn right back out to the pavement down another road and past my house.  Turn left and you go up some more. Back in the Naughties we would walk to dogs along this route always turning right.  At my house Frannie and I would go in.  S and and Allie would go home.

Today we turned left.  Up and Up and Up.  Near the top, S. told me that we could make a loop instead of going back.  She hates out and back: on the bike, on a walk.  So we kept going.  

In the end, it was a 6 mile walk.  So much for being lazy.  I walked an extra half mile each way.  Then I spent the afternoon on the couch with my book and the dogs.

So now S. and I have a slogan.  Remember the Fourth.  Which means almost the same thing that Remember the Pfaff means to me and Betsy.