in town

I am presently one-third of the way into three weeks of not traveling -- no airports, no road trips to Eastern Washington or Canada, no anxiously texting the cat sitter. In the past 12 months, I don't think I've ever spent this long of a stretch at home. And to add to that excitement: Sun.

I know, right? Mind-blowing.

So what did I do with my free time?

Totally normal.

What? You don't spend your Saturday afternoons posing for matching portraits with your dead animal friends? Man, your life is incomplete. As you can see, Frank, my not-yet-named taxidermied squirrel and I were models for Bri's photography project. She did a fantastic job with the photos, and the shoot was so much fun. I secretly hope her next project involves cats.

I also spent my free time cooking.

Mmm. Slutty egg and grits.

There was also a lot of reading (currently blasting through Cheryl Strayed's Wild and feeling wholly entertained and shocked by her complete lack of trail preparedness), cleaning (this afternoon I found what can only be described as a cat vomitorium under my bed, and it was terrible) and purging (not in the cat vomitorium way, but in the massive Goodwill dump way).

And of course, there was cycling. Because how can I spend a glorious weekend at home without my favorite fiesty girl?

We met up with Julie today with big plans of riding Mercer Island and the north part of the Lake Washington loop. All went well -- I love Mercer and its rollers and green, ferny scenery -- until we got to Bellevue, missed a turn and ended up climbing unexpected hills in Costcoland Kirkland. The confusion continued as we became more and more lost.

Why are we suddenly on gravel?!

There was also the part when I found myself at the top of these stairs and had a horrific fleeting vision of what it would be like if I hadn't seen them.

We eventually figured things out and made our way back to Seattle. The ride just took an hour and 11 miles longer than originally planned. But it was still fun. And we did end up at a bar for burgers and cider afterward.

Hey, girl, hey.

Then I rode the giant hill back to my apartment (I always try to come up with ways to avoid riding this hill, but the truth is: I live on top of the freaking thing, and there is absolutely no way to get home but to ride up it) and lay on the floor (which was very clean, since I have been cleaning a lot this weekend) for a long time.

My view from the floor

And since I was lying on the floor, Maček just had to say hello.

I swear. As if the vomitorium weren't enough.