We’ve managed a couple of good outdoor adventures this weekend.
Yesterday evening, after a long day of writing enabled by AJ’s unexpected absence, Mr. Spy and I were both desperate to get out of the house. I suggested a trek to our favorite dive Mexican joint a couple of towns away. AJ complained — he’s not a fan of Mexican food , nor, for that matter, of any cuisine that makes liberal use of herbs and or spices. So we gave him dinner before we left and promised to buy him dessert there. I can’t tell you exactly why I love this place. It’s a little shabby, but it feels cozy and friendly. And the food is good and insanely cheap — I stuffed myself on an enormous shrimp taco and an equally enormous tostada piled high with black beans, rice and avocado for just over $4. The margaritas are bad, but they come in cactus glasses (“It’s a saguaro!” AJ observed)
The other thing I like about the place is that its parking lot backs onto a park. After dinner, we cut out the back door and and headed to the park, where we watched the end of a little league game and part of a coed softball game. Then we headed toward the playground where AJ climbed around like a monkey for a while. We stumbled on the entrance to a bike path and followed it, along a creek and under a railroad bridge, where AJ and I stood and yelled while a train passed overhead. The path was full of wetland wildflowers and red-winged blackbirds, a hidden oasis.
Today we spent a huge part of the morning and early afternoon watching the rain come down and repeatedly checking the website of AJ’s baseball league to see if the game was cancelled. It eventually was, but not until the sun came out, which was somewhat perplexing until Mr. Spy drove down to see the field, which was covered in puddles.
By the time we managed to get out of the house, it was past three and we were all a little out of sorts. We headed to the bike trail. Mr. Spy and I wanted to show AJ the other branch of the trail, which runs between a stream on one side, and an active quarry on the other. We pedalled past the conveyor belts and stopped to watch water gushing through culverts. A little farther ahead, the quarry side turned to wildflower-covered prairie, dotted with blue tradescantia, white anenomes, pink wild roses, and a number of other things I recognized but couldn’t readily identify. As AJ tired (he is still riding his original two-wheeler which is too small for him and requires him to pedal at least 6 times for every one push of the pedal I make), we turned back, stopping to follow an offshoot of the path that led us up a hill to a baseball field. Mr. Spy and AJ had a catch, while I listened to the person playing bagpipes in a house in the bland tract housing development across the street. Hearing the bagpipes was so unexpected and seemed in such contrast to the surroundings, that it made me smile. I took a spin around the neighborhood while Mr. Spy and AJ played. Alas, I saw nothing else to match the bagpipes.
Saturday nights mean radio in our house. I cooked dinner (chicken Italian sausage, zucchini pancakes with applesauce and sour cream, and corn on the cob) while listening to A Prairie Home Companion, and ate it to American Routes, which also got us up and dancing around the kitchen. I am now sacked out in my room inhaling the scent of the enormous, pale pink peonies I brought in from the garden. Not a complicated day, but a good one.
Tomorrow I hope to make it to a church in Fairlywell’s town, where a friend of mine is music director. He was one of the first people I met when I moved to Chicago and we’ve sung in assorted choirs, both amateur and professional, for nearly 20 years. He also conducted the choir at my wedding, so I have no doubt that the music will be excellent.
Posted by harri3tspy 
