Just as soon as I hit "Publish" yesterday the doorbell rang and it was Lala come to play and stay the night. We visited while I ate lunch (she'd stopped for a brat on the way) and the rain cleared a bit. We decided that we're intrepid women so off we went to Bay Beach amusement park. That is one great place. The city owns and runs it. It's clean and family friendly, right on the bay, with lots of shelters and places for church and family picnics, and inexpensive rides that just about anyone can afford. Tickets are $.25 each--the baby rides are one ticket, most of the others are two tickets and a few are three tickets. That's right, people, you can drive the bumper cars for seventy-five cents, the Scrambler, the Scat, and the Crazy Swings of Death (more about that in a minute) are only fifty cents. When our kids were small the tickets were a dime, A DIME, so I could pack a picnic lunch and five bucks for an afternoon that was a big treat and still have money for a sweet something to share. We started on the Scrambler and laughed uproariously the whole time. They don't just switch the rides on and off either, you get a nice long ride for your brain to slosh around in your head before they slow down and stop. Next we rode the bumper cars. I LOVE the bumper cars. Even more amazing, the guy running the bumper cars was someone Lala went to college with and was friends with 30 years ago. It sure is a small world.
After that she talked me into a ride on the Crazy Swings of Death (I'm sure that's not the name on the sign but it should be) which looked scary but bearable from the safety of the pavement. I began to have my doubts as we were buckled into the seats and as it began to rotate I knew I'd made a horrible mistake. I could feel my knuckles whiten as the whirling got stronger and the swings began to fly out, then the hub started to raise us up into the sky. Oh. My. God. I. Am. Going. To. Die. Not only was it going around like an out of control tornado, canted at an angle so our orbit wasn't level, the seats were rocking back and forth all on their own. I was too scared to scream and felt my arm muscles tighten as I rocked trying to keep my seat still-er. I didn't cry. I didn't barf. I didn't pee my pants. I consider it a triumph of self-control.
Then we rode the Scat which is a stand up ride that relies on centrifugal force to keep riders in place against metal mesh sides. There is a padded headrest so the metal isn't embedded in your skull. I thought it'd be fun (it was my pick) but of all the rides that one made me the wooziest. Once we staggered off the Scat we rested my ankle on a bench (I was very glad I took my cane along) while she had an ice cream and we contemplated our next move. We did another ride on the bumper cars (and got in free, eeee!), rode the tiny train along the shore and back, and did one more Scrambler ride. By then it was starting to drizzle again so we called it a day. It was a lot of fun even if I did acquire a headache as a parting gift. We'll do it again.
When we got home Durwood and Lala visited while I grilled the pork ribs, microwaved the sweet corn, and dished out a chopped salad with FW's homegrown cherry tomatoes on for starters. All of the food went away in a satisfying manner. Afterward Lala and I cooked up a Quick Cherry & Peach Crisp out of the WW cookbook for dessert. We didn't share with Durwood, he said he was full.
I didn't knit. We talked about writing and books and travel and all sorts of things. We stayed up too late and got up too early to talk more before she left to go home. Now I'm doing laundry (the last load's ready to go into the dryer) and the only bad thing about that is one of the hoses from the hot water tap is leaking. I turned it off, did the wash in cold water as usual, and I'll call the plumber tomorrow to fix the hose. I could probably do it but I've never plumbed before so a professional it is. Turning off the tap "fixed" the leak--for now.
August 28--Mitchel Gray, MG506. He knifed through the water like a blade through soft butter. His arms cycled up, out, down, pulling his body through the lake chop and his legs kicked just under the surface so no motion was wasted. Kat sat on the dock wrapped in a plaid wool blanket that smelled faintly of mildew and old dog. Her hands were wrapped around a thick china mug of coffee. She kept vigil in the early morning while Alf swam. He argued that he was safe. "The lake's not that deep. I could practically walk from shore to shore. You don't have to lifeguard me." Then he wrapped her in his long, strong arms and kissed the part in her hair. She didn't tell him about her dream where he got tangled and drowned. "I like watching you swim," was all she said.
Okay, enough blabbering. Time to go put the last load in the dryer and finish trimming the pattern for a blouse FOR ME that I'm thinking I'll cut out and maybe sew on the next few days/weeks/months, depending on how distracted I get. Toodle--oo.