Write four lines of prose about: fumes.
Had a delightfully slow paced morning, just lazing around the house while our hosts were off working and traveling (Alex was working, Megan was on her way to Vernon for a ringette tournament, of all things - she'll be back Sunday night). Max kept himself entertained by exploring all the 'toys' in the house while Kat and I recovered from yesterday's drive.
And, you know, maybe the last two weeks or so.
Kat met up with a friend for lunch and then the four of us got together to go for a walk. It's been an early spring here in Vancouver, and a lot of the cherry blossoms are out already, not to mention various flowers. It was a warm, lovely walk, that ended up taking us by the place Kat and I lived... when this blog began, actually. I'd forgotten that.
It was neat to see the old house, and even nicer to roam our old neighborhood. Kat's spending most of the next two days doing an outdoor education course, so Max and I will have plenty of time to continue our explorations in the big city.
"We're running on fumes here, man."
"I know, but we just need to get a little bit farther."
"You're pushing it... you know that, right?"
"Shut up already and help me pick a color to paint Mr. Fuller's poodle - this prank has gotta be the one to push him over the edge!"