ah... the best laid plans

It's the weekend that was post, but with a bit of  difference.  You see, I sit here at Van's place not having done much of anything since late yesterday morning.  Why, you ask?

That's why.  There are two steps down from Van's home's entrance to the living room.  And when I took that second step yesterday, I rolled my left ankle hard.  Cursing, crying, icing.  I've run the gamut.  And now I'll baby it for the week ahead so that it's (I hope!) at least a little ok by the time we head to Nashville on Friday.

Sigh.

What's frustrating is that I'd been ramping up the morning walks, going harder and faster and longer.  7+ miles on Friday morning,

with Conrad joining me about four miles in,

9 miles on Saturday

with Olive and Conrad joining me for the last 3/4 mile. 

Good step counts through the week.  Feeling good about it.  And now this.

Alright, enough moaning and gurning on about such things.  Let it heal, Peter, and tell your gentle readers how the rest of the weekend was.

There was that good walk on Friday morning.  Conrad and I eventually made our way to Amara Cafe for a little breakfast

before I had to get home for an online meeting (that, it turned out, I didn't need to attend, and so I didn't).  I worked from home the rest of the day while Conrad spent the day with Olive, then he and I met up back at the condo to head for a light, quick dinner at Maestro.

I love when Rigo and Marco try out new cocktails.  It's always fun to see what they've come up with.  We only had one cocktail each at the bar there, but it was a terrific new one, a clarified pineapple daiquiri with a whipped matcha topping. 

Sweet, not too sweet, a little fresh.  I could have had more easily. 

Instead, we kept ourselves to the one round along with some guacamole

and plantain chips as well as the grilled octopus with fideo and nopales. 

Then it was back to Van's to rescue Olive

and feed her.  We had an easy time of it the rest of the evening.

Conrad has been taking care of me since Saturday morning, and thank goodness.  His cooking is rudimentary at best, but it's care, and I appreciate it a lot.  It's mid-afternoon on Sunday as I write this, and I think I may soon go back to sitting on the bed with my ankle propped up.  I'll avoid going in to work the next couple of days so as not to have to aggravate things.  Van comes home tomorrow, and the three of us have some travel ahead.

Onward with Sunday! 

Butch? Or stupid? Both?

I'll keep this short and try not to revolt you too much. As injuries go, it's fairly minor. Three stitches on my right heel, two smaller lacerations. Also (unseen) a tetanus shot.

I can't decide if last night I was very butch, very stupid, some of both, or what. In the end, though, my advice is that if you're going to kick in the glass front of the case holding the fire extinguisher, maybe wear better shoes than a pair of sandals.