Slow Sunday

We were awakened at 7am by Spike jumping off our bed, tearing into the living room and barking at the front door, highly unusual behavior for him unless someone is at the front door, and who would be at our front door at that hour on a Sunday morning? John went to investigate and found that Tobi had crept up onto our porch, leaving our hand selected tomato plants by the door and quietly stolen off again. We didn't hear her, but Spike, with his ultra sonar hearing did! 

We don't dally with the newspaper, even the Sunday one, these days, so we were ready for our power walk fairly early. But it must have rained in the night and it was still wet outside this morning, not to mention quite cold, so we dithered around accomplishing nothing very little (we did get dressed) for quite awhile. 

Eventually we made our way once again to the Brush Creek walk which features a wide, relatively level,  paved path and interesting scenery ranging from the picturesque Flat Rocks with children playing in and around the two converging creeks there, to some interesting townhouses and some larger detached homes. The townhouses are three stories high with no gardens front or back, but balconies with people on them doing everything from talking on the phone, brushing their hair, or in one case their dog's hair, or sitting and watching the world go by.

In the next block a man was in his driveway working on a very small pink bike. I couldn't tell if he was assembling it or washing it, but I liked the attention he was giving to the task well enough to take a picture of him.

When we  finished our walk, we were right around the corner from the Trail House, so we repaired there for a coffee. Sunday is always a very busy day for them and there were lots of families with kids entertaining themselves with crafts provided by the management and mountain bikers covered in mud fresh from the trails in Annadale State park across the street. There is actually a shower room in the back near the rest rooms, but I've never seen anyone using it. 

My attention was drawn, to the two little girls in matching round black glasses coloring in elaborate designs with magic markers. I loved the glasses, the concentration, and the way the sister with her back to us was sitting.

Back home, John planted his tomatoes and I finished the neck ribbing on the new sweater project with its tricky first row. The sun tried to struggle out but gave up after awhile and it never warmed up sufficiently to lure me outside. Things are supposed to improve, weatherwise, tomorrow.