Bike ride home was festive -- the wonderful weather (and today was glorious -- great light, cool temperatures, sunny and lovely clouds) brought everybody out to the lake, so there were plenty of folks about. Peacefest was being waged in part of the park, which leveled a marijuana smog layer throughout the park. I ran into Exene in the lobby, wearing her triathlon racing gear, and the pot smoke had definitely leached into her racing jacket, which was amusing. She said "All I did was bike through the smoke." and I said "Yeah, that wicking fabric must've just soaked that right up." Amusing.
I was going to go bike to run some errands, but the city's crowded with suburbanites out to flock to the lakeshore; in times like these, we urban locals just hunker down and let the hordes do their thing. It's just easier. That's the one drawback to living in the city -- in summer, the 708ers just come in droves (calling them 708ers is a willful anachronism of mine, since I remember when there were only two area codes for Chicago -- and the 708 area code was for the suburbanites, hence the term).
I'm going to work on one of the books this weekend, at long last. I've had it stewing in my head for awhile, but am going to dive in on that, see how that goes. Once I begin, it'll just go.
I want to get a starter tennis racquet for B1; I think he'll enjoy the game. B2 will want to play, but he's too young -- he gets to be ball boy, which I'm sure he'll hate. The key'll be getting the racquets and for B2 NOT to try to bonk his brother with'em. Trust me, I know this dance.
 |
| Mmm, bucket o' crayons! |
