long weekend.

I had my weekend off finally. It was glorious. I managed to plan very loosely, something I do not excel at. But, Molly and I went out on Friday, managing to drag ourselves home at 1:30am, full of Beth's Cafe. We got up at 9am on Saturday and were supposed to be going to my Mom's and Dad's (a journey in one day). But, I'd found this hurt pigeon outside my work on Friday and brought it home with me. It was dragging itself around the Billings Middle School parking lot, trying to look like it was just sunning itself when it saw me eying it. But I knew better when I was able to catch the little guy (comes from years of herding chickens, natural talent). I called PAWS when I got home but they said they were too full for a pigeon. They said to try this shelter in Arlington. So, we thought we'd drive to Arlington, then Whidbey Island, then Port Townsend. Like I said, we finally got out of bed at 9am. Yeah right we're going to all those places. I really wanted to workout at least some and I was not feeling the whirlwind tour of Puget Sound (but, just you wait, we took one anyways). After much debate, we decided to just go to my Dad's and go to my Mom's on Tuesday but then we needed an animal shelter closer to PT, since we weren't going north at all. So, I did creepy sprints on the side of the house and cursed my bum elbow. Side note: I am so f-ing sick of tennis elbow. I hate tennis, have no idea how to play, and can't wear white for more than five minutes without being covered in stains (and I'd pit out a white tennis polo in no time). So, why the hell do I have tennis elbow in my good arm right before the time when I need this arm quite a bit? It's raising my blood pressure. Anyways, we made good omelettes and bummed around the house, waiting to hear back from my Dad. We sat in the back yard with the chickens (still no eggs!! lazy!). Every time we would move around the yard we'd be accompanied by the two dogs and Lily. Sometimes the chickens would run hop fly bounce over but would then run hop fly bounce away about as fast as they showed up. It's a little gross to be in the back yard and see animals pop up over fences and dart around corners and jump onto the benches made for people. A little gross, but I love it.

So, long story short, we ended up going to Port Townsend, with the pigeon and both dogs. We got down to the Bainbridge ferry with only a few minutes to spare and there was a cop out directing traffic, looked to be a back up, and we made the decision to drive around (through Tacoma) rather than wait in the ferry line and have the dogs roast in the canopy. The pigeon seemed cool with it too. So, we drove, and managed to get there in about the same time as the ferry and for about the same price, probably less. It was a good drive, a little lonely since Molly always falls asleep. But the sun was right and the car was cool once we got off I-5 and onto the peninsula. We were trying to get to PT by 6:00 so I could meet a friend from North. Dropping the pigeon off would have made us very late so we decided to put it off until Sunday and keep driving. Then, on Hwy 104 just before the turnoff for Port Townsend, my car started to sputter and lurch up this hill. I'd been flooring it in 5th gear and decreasing in speed. Then it got pissed. So, I pulled onto the shoulder, got out and popped the hood to look at everything I knew nothing about. I checked the oil, because that's pretty much all I am sufficient at mechanically, and lo, there was pretty much none in there. I thought I'd put in a bunch recently but that was probably longer ago than I thought. The nearest gas station was the Beaver Valley Store and that was probably three miles away. So, Molly helped me paw through the rubble behind my seat to see what treasures lay beneath. We found four quarts of oil, all empty. So, she sat in the front seat, handing me each quart, one at a time so I could treat it like a cold bottle of ketchup and whap every last drop into my tank. One had a full tablespoon, that was rewarding. At the time, it seemed fine that this was happening. But, once we were crawling to the gas station, having re-entered the flow of traffic from a stop on the shoulder on a hill (not pleasant) I wondered if it should be routine to pull over on a two lane highway to milk old cartons of oil, wearing my new favorite shirt (a homemade muscle t that was supposed to be costume for the white trash party the night before) while my girlfriend sits shotgun next to a broken, caged pigeon, with two dogs crying in the bed of the truck. But, we made it, only 45 minutes late to meet up with my friend and that's really what matters.

We hiked today. Good time except we almost had to leave Charlie behind. The poor guy laid down in a stream on the way down, he was so hot and tired. And, he'd already drank most of our water (64oz for a 3-4 hour hike!). Greedy old man.

The pigeon was dropped off. I'm not sure he's going to make it. The wildlife guy said it looked like a joint injury and those are no good for birds. But he gave me his "case number" so I could call and check on him.

Now we're home. The chickens are good (no eggs of course) and the cats are needy and annoyed. And the dogs are passed out cold. A good day.