I hope my readers had a good weekend. Mine started on Friday
evening, when Travalon and I went to the Monona Terrace to dance on the roof to
a salsa band. Then we had a late fish dinner on the patio at Waypoint –
walleye, yum! And I had a delicious sour cherry beer from Belgium.
Saturday morning Travalon and I did two of the three
volunteer hours required by the gardens, then we drove to Palmyra to swim at
their wonderful beach. While I was floating on the inflatable raft, a fish
tried to pull my finger off, which was more shocking than painful. I screamed,
and Travalon wondered what was wrong. After that I got off the raft and swam,
figuring the fish could see I was bigger than they were if all of me was in the
water, as opposed to a dangling digit they must have mistaken for a worm. I had
thought Palmyra was the location of a rest stop I remembered on a fundraising
bike tour I had been on two decades earlier, but it didn’t look anything like I
remembered, so Travalon and I drove around to Waterville and Delafield trying
to find this place. Finally we went to Oconomowoc to visit his mother, and it
suddenly occurred to me that the lovely beach I remembered from that long-ago
bike ride was probably the same one I was so familiar with from attending
concerts with Travalon and his mother. We were unable to take his mother to the
beach that evening, but we took her across the street in the skyway to go sit
by the side of the lake. We saw a pontoon boat with a giant inflatable birthday
cake on it. It was such a beautiful evening. When we got back to Madison,
Travalon and I went to Africa Fest for a very late but tasty dinner of peanut
chicken stew, and I bought a couple of pairs of earrings. Then we went to
Mother Fool’s for a very late latte; I had a decaf one, but Travalon says he
has no trouble sleeping after drinking coffee, so he had a full-strength mocha.
Yesterday I overslept and had no voice, so we went to Mass
at Westport. Then we met Cali and Travalon’s old college buddy in Albany for
cheeseburgers before tubing. The Center Tavern was full of people, which seemed
odd considering how beautiful it was outside. Travalon said there was one woman
who was there when we first got there, and as we were leaving town hours later,
he saw her emerge from the tavern to smoke a cigarette. Imagine spending your
whole beautiful Sunday afternoon in a pub! Cali and I decided to hike instead
of tubing, partly to get some exercise and partly to leave the guys alone to reminisce,
and we hiked for six miles on the verdant Sugar River Trail, praying the rosary
in a mix of English and Spanish. Travalon and his buddy were tubing happily
down the river when some other people asked his buddy if he wanted a beer. They
tossed it to him but didn’t throw it quite far enough, so he dove off his tube
to rescue it. He thought the river was only knee-deep, but it was over his
head, and he is well over six feet tall! He did manage to rescue the beer (a
Coors Lite – was it even worth it??) but couldn’t get back onto his tube, so he
tried to swim over to the shore with the beer in one hand and the tube in the
other. Just as he approached the shore, he startled a muskrat that swam right toward
him, veered off, and ran into Travalon’s tube. That shocked the bejeebers out
of both of them! After that adventure, the four of us drove to New Glarus and
had a wonderful dinner with delightful conversation at a Swiss restaurant. What
a fantastic day!
Famous Hat
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