A Break From Knitting
This was pretty much a damn near perfect weekend, if you ask me: the only thing that kept it from being perfect was that I forgot that we had cranberry sauce in the cupboard for the Sunday chicken dinner.
Hard Workin Brendan organized a trip to a combination indoor mini golf/insane asylum on Saturday afternoon, causing many of us to get out of our pajamas at the ungoldly hour of 2:30 pm. This would be a great place for a birthday party, particularly if it was open very late at night, and you could bring a box of wine, and there were no other children there besides our own exceptionally well behaved city children, and we could get take out from this place where we had dinner later, and the owners would vacuum the course before we got there. Then it would go from almost perfect to perfect.
Sad to say, my putting was less than perfect. I did get a few nice putts, but the winter has taken it's toll on my meager skills.