I had a great day! My friend Dude and I had sushi in Lacey (I know, you wouldn't think that would be a good place to get sushi, but it was lovely), walked in the woods, and brought coffee back to his mom. His cat let me pet her, and the dog sniffed my crotch. A lot. She loves attention.

Dude's got 12 acres of woods and a small farm north of Olympia. And he's got a 1967 VW Transporter in the garage, which I had to lovingly touch and coo over. Oh, how I miss my Parker Wunderbussen (the 1966 Transporter that burnt up in 1999). My family would kill me if I bought this thing, but OMG, how it stirred my soul.

Hold me back. Get thee behind me, Volkswagen.

Anyhooooo, we talked about everything under the sun. I will enjoy being friends with Dude. He's got a lot of information in his head, sometimes too much, but I like it. Information about massage and money and businesses and too many other things to list.

Here's to new friends. Yes, friends.
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I dropped off the refrigerator dolly at the Cajun's house. He's bought a house - yay! - and he gets to use it to move the heavy stuff. I was bummed because I left my cell phone at home, and he wasn't home when I got there. I couldn't get in touch, but left the dolly and called later. Good evening, Mr. Cajun. It was good to hear your voice.
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There was a women's motorcycle ride planned for tomorrow, but it has been canceled due to a road washout on our route. Yay! I love riding my bike, but the trip to Leavenworth was enough for me for now. I'm not into riding in the rain. I want to go to the library, and perhaps go to the record store and sell some CDs. I don't need them, thanks to the digital revolution, so why not make some cash? And for the love of all that's holy, perhaps I can get back on the exercise bandwagon. I walked about 4 miles today, but I have to keep to a routine. It is my salvation. It, and gin and tonics, and writing, and getting ready for school. Massage school, that is. The room is coming together nicely.
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Back to work on Monday. We begin WASL testing; that's the Washington Assessment of Student Learning, otherwise known as bullshit standardized (?) testing that tells us nothing about what children need. A parent put it best: "If this test actually informed educational planning, I would let my son take it, but since it doesn't, I'll be opting out." Amen, student's mom, amen.

I'm taking deep breaths. Mondays are usually fine, but a WASL-week Monday will require a Blue Velvet latté and a honey bran muffin from Café Luna. I have decreed it.