Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Can you bite your toes?

Well Jennifer and I enjoyed our Easter weekend. On Saturday we tuned our bikes and went for a killer ride. Our being out of shape along with my dyslexic map reading which led us in the opposite direction of home, left our legs feeling like jelly and our ischii sore. So we sat out on the patio and enjoyed a couple beers.

Sunday we were up early to make spanokopita for the Coleman potluck. Unfortunately as I did not write down the directions, we missed the annual bowling for quarters. Last year we had so many strikes and spares between the two of us we must have made 5 bucks. After spending an unsuccessful hour navigating Toronto in search of said bowling alley we decided to just relax on a patio in the sun and enjoy a couple beers. You by now see an obvious trend emerging of me failing with directions and consoling ourselves with sun and beer. We did make it for potluck dinner however, and it was fabulous. As is usual we ate too much and were sent back with car load of delicious food (carrot cake, frittata, croissants, danishes, shortbread cookies, peanut butter cookies, and Easter chocolate). My favorite part of the night was when everyone tried to see if they could reach their toes to their mouths (I have no idea how we got on the topic; something about nail biting).

I will leave you with a limerick I composed about Jennifer's palm plant.

Jennifer’s poor palm, once so vibrant and vivacious,

It seems has taken a turn most uncapacious.

At a time hale and hearty,

but no longer the talk of the party.

I fear its fronds are fugacious.

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