Perils of Caffeine in the Evening

Arriving at Seatac at 11:15 on Friday evening shortens the weekend a bit, since by the time I got my luggage and secured transportation, I didn’t arrive home until nearly 1 am. I slept in luxuriously Saturday morning.

The week in Milwaukee featured meetings and after-work dinners and socializing, and it took me out of even the tenuous exercise routine I’ve established there. I got out for fugitive walks on several nights, but no gym sessions for bike work or weights. After 5 nights of chicken tetrachloride, chicken melamino, etc., I could actually hear my body softening as I lay in bed.

So, I was glad for a nice spring day on Saturday, as I was able to get out for a spin on my bike and a Nautilus session. Some kid even flattered me by drafting me for 4 or 5 miles, so I must be getting a little stronger. I wonder, though, if they make a bike that keeps your thighs from hitting your gut with each pedal revolution. Oh, yeah, they do. It’s called a Harley.

I stopped at a park on Lake Washington and just lazed for awhile.

Sunday, unbelievably, was even a little warmer. While Mrs. Perils was off at the climbing gym, I grabbed my copy of Emma and walked down to Gasworks Park, there to wallow in the grass and read, something I really don’t do very often, and never have at Gasworks. Here’s a video from the top of Kite Hill, where people were flying kites (and arguing, already!), flying model airplanes, and one talented young fellow riding a unicycle. I thought he was awfully good just riding on level ground - I couldn’t believe when he started down the long winding path down the hill.

Some other images from that stroll:

A new cafe! You’d think that Seattle would run out of people capable of imbibing another sip of coffee. Or the world would run out of beans. This one’s playing off of the old Gulf Oil motif, for those of you old enough to remember the internal combustion engine.

Dogwood blossom. Each one is sort of a gazebo for its seeds.

A nifty front yard in the ‘hood. At my place, the grass hardly ever gets cut, and I’ve got a rain forest growing in my gutters.

Tile plaza adorns a stair climb down to Gasworks Park.

A venerable old yacht shares Lake Union with a spirited sailboat.