Hey there chickadees.
Sorry for the temporary pause in the action.
I’ve been in the suburbs, immersed in book discussions and good conversation and other such activities.
I thought that since it’s been a few days, I’d do a round-up of sorts, because really, what’s better than a round-up?
Sunday night, we traveled to Ravinia, where we ate all kinds of delicious foods, drank white wine spritzers, and chatted through Steve Martin’s set.
It turns out, I love bluegrass.
Or maybe I just love Steve Martin.
Or maybe it’s just Ravinia in general.
In any case, it was a beautiful summer night, and I have nothing bad to say about it.
That’s the view up from my seat at Ravinia. Basically, I’m in a tree. And I love it.
Just a snapshot of the snacks we brought with us- they were all delicious.
Monday night, there was a hypnotist brought in for my group’s entertainment.
“I won’t volunteer- and I know I’m a target,” I kept saying, trying to make a point.
I volunteered almost immediately anyway.
I then sang the ABC song on stage, while in a weird, I’m-sort-of-there-but-am-I-really trance.
I also thought my name was Pepper.
There’s a video, but fortunately, I don’t have access to it at this time.
I’m getting outside my comfort zone, chickens.
While I was gone, I received an e-mail from Ky, stating the following:
We should get goats and rent them out. I’m pretty sure that we could make some cash without much effort at all.
I laughed immediately, scanned the article, and felt a little skeptical about the prospect of owning goats to my resume. To this, I received the following response:
For 6 weeks of goats NYC paid the goat man over $20,000!!!! I see no reason why this would not be a successful business venture hahahahahaha
I’ll have to give this one some more thought.
I made it back out for another bike ride this morning. It’s such a good way to start the day, and with CJ at my side, it’s mostly just like chatting.
But strengthening our muscles instead of sipping cocktails.
Here’s to mixing it up, right?
Last night, my brother and I drove home to the city and happened upon a request-only radio station that normally plays top 40 hits only.
Apparently though, the request-only portion of the evening brings out the more guitar-y, lovely voice crowd.
Which I didn’t mind at all.
And with the invention of Shazam (How do I do it? Is it Zazzle? Can I zazzle it? I said to MJ, as I fumbled with the touch screen and he, thankfully, kept his eyes on the road), I was able to add this little gem to my listening collection:
I know he’s from American Idol.
And I don’t even care.
Enjoy the sunshine, chickpeas- Wednesday’s here already!