As busy as this weekend was, it was also pretty relaxing, in its own way. Instead of running all over to hell and back, we took the trailer to camp less than an hour from home so we didn’t have to run back home after each event. Cut down on the driving significantly, and let us get some drinking in too.

Friday night, we pulled into the trap club and set up camp, and then ran off for dinner. I’d wanted to show him Woolgrowers over in Los Banos, one of my favorite restaurants of all time, and we were still close enough to his birthday to make it an excuse. And it was good too. They feed you so much that you need a dolly to roll out of there. It’s family-style Basque, and a favorite of all of the local farmers and ranchers and not so much of the influx of commuters in that town, so people like us feel right at home. We happened to get what would normally be a four-top in a regular place to ourselves, instead of being seated in a row with a bunch of strangers, which can totally happen there. And the food they brought filled up that table, and the waitress had to take things away to make room for more.

What you do is order your meat (lamb chops for me, prime rib for Junior) and everything else comes with it. Wine, soup, potato salad, bread, beans, lamb stew, green salad, and french fries. Even though they scaled down for our small table, it was about enough food for six people. And there was no way I was going to finish three giant lamb chops, but that’s OK; lunch! Oh, and you get ice cream if you want it when you’re done, in those little cups with the wooden paddles that you used to get at the public pool in the summer. I could not face ice cream, having blown all of my extra space on the rest of that green salad with the addictive dressing.

Back to the ranch and up fairly early to meet M and her family for breakfast, since she lives in that town and it would have been silly not to go see her. That was the only time we could both pencil in for each other all weekend, but it worked out fine.

Zip down to Gustine to pick up some sausages at Wolfsen’s to go with dinner, and then back home to watch Seamus play a game.

 

He did all right; they lost, but not by much. I did catch him eyeballing his mom the photographer once when he should have been catching the ball; we’re going to have to have a little talk about that one.

Back out to the trailer, and this time in time for their annual rib BBQ. Oh, and the drinking, which was why we brought the house with us in the first place. Nobody had to drive home. Junior fed me too much bourbon, but since I didn’t mix my liquors this time, I escaped the hangover that being that buzzed should have done me. I got to see Junior a little whirly too, but not all that much.

The next day was our nominal reason for being out at the club; the last trap shoot of the Winter League season. Junior’s team squeaked by to make it into the shoot-offs next weekend by three points. Since we had to be at the awards ceremony, it made for a late day. We still had to get the trailer back to Junior’s place and me back home, before we just collapsed onto the couch. I didn’t fully recover until today, Tuesday. I spent Monday being a zombie and working the bare minimum until I could go home and take a nap. I love these busy weekends and all that we get to do, but I come home and look at my filthy house and just groan. Between these and running somewhere every day after work, I just don’t have the time to manage things, and am seriously considering getting a housekeeper once a week just to knock some of the grunge off so I’m not a ball of stress every time I look at my kitchen.