Socked In By Fog

Yesterday (Sunday), the advanced weather forecasts were predicting even warmer weather than we had on Saturday. Earlier in the week, I was debating about whether to schedule a group ride for Saturday or Sunday. I’m glad that I listened to my colleagues who are professional meteorologists, as well as my own intuition. Yesterday, instead of warm and bright, we had cold and damp, I mean really damp, and were socked in by thick fog.

So what’s a biker to do?

Duhhh… not ride, that’s for sure. I overheard many of my friends making plans to ride yesterday when we were on our ride on Saturday. Several of them invited me to ride with them. But I have a rule that I live by — this is how a biker negotiates give-and-take with his non-riding best half — that if he let me have all day on Saturday, I would devote all day Sunday to him. (Well, most of the day, anyway. I took a few senior pals grocery shopping early, but knocked that fun task out quickly.)

My fiance wants a greenhouse. He wants a place to grow winter veggies and start seeds for summer flowers and veggies. Friday evening, I went to a building supplies retailer and purchased most of what I thought was required to build it, including pressure-treated lumber and required hardware.

But as always happens, given a day to himself, my fiance did on-line research and found products and design plans that he wanted to employ for his greenhouse. So after the grocery trip was done, my fiance and I went to an alternative home supplies retailer with a list. A huge list. I had a discount card that was expiring at that retailer, so it made the ten-mile trip worthwhile so we could get 10% off everything in our cart.

Even by early afternoon, the fog remained dense, the air temperatures cool, and the general feeling outdoors of “yucky.” We decided that despite the prediction of warm weather, it was too wet to bring out the power tools and risk electrocution.

Instead, in honor of “leather weekend” in DC, we donned our leathers (jeans, shirts) and …

… snuggled on our sofa and watched a movie.

So much for life in the ‘burbs for two old farts.

Life is short: make plans, but change them as required.