On Not Getting Out There

This Thursday the weather decided it wanted to play nice and we got our first chance to go climb outdoors. Pointless (as in the crag)? I think yes. Kristin leading ropegun? Another big fat yes. Kristin leading ropegun fearlessly? Oh yes oh yes oh yes. Even though the wind shook me as I approached the top of the second climb, it was a perfect day. The first day of warm outdoor activities. Life was falling miraculously into place.

And then it happened. Charly succumbed to the terrible head cold he'd been fighting off for a week and we spent the whole of the weekend indoors watching Nikita, eating saltine crackers and spicy thai food (because I can jump on any reason to order Original Thai). Plus there was a lot of me giving foot rubs and back rubs and lots of "are you sure you don't wanna take a sick day off on Monday?" He didn't. He never does. "Sick days are for when I'm actually sick," he says. Although he seemed pretty sick to not step outside on the first day it's hit the seventies all year.


He just wouldn't let me take a photo of his sick face.


Also: Chuck found a way to fasten those bike trailers onto our friend's bikes. Kind of makes me maybe want one after hearing stories of all the bike camping adventures they'll be going on this summer.