Easily Distracted by Shiny Things

I finally tackled cleaning up the smallish patio. ("Patio" by virtue of having a concrete floor and a roof, though otherwise it's just a space behind the garage.) Standard distribution patterns of yard debris mean that winter deposits a layer of dead leaves, and my inattention to the calendar means that I never remember to put a winter dust-cover on the grill and smoker, so they need to get a thorough wash-down, as do the shelves and the patio furniture.

But a couple of work sessions took care of all those factors and earlier this week a fired up the grill just for the heck of it. (Corn on the cob, grilled eggplant from the garden, grilled lamb chops marinated in lemon juice.) It's one of those pieces of equipment where my desire to own it seriously overwhelms the actual amount I use it. (I own it for the fantasy life in which I have friends over regularly.)

Next job is cleaning out the fuel feed of the smoker (which I made the mistake of not emptying at the end of the season). Maybe it's baked enough that the pellets have un-concreted. I previously made a stab at disassembling it to clean out the stuck pellets, but balked at how much disassembly that seemed to require.

As you may know, a year ago I invested in a fancy (expensive) recumbent tricycle to support my bicycling habit in the face of the awkwardness sometimes falling over at stops due to the mild nerve damage in my right leg. So yesterday I'd made an appointment to get it an annual tune-up (plus replacing a part that needed fixing) and since the specialty bike shop is in Sacramento, this meant dropping it off in the morning then finding something to do while they worked on it.

I had no idea how long this might take (since it would depend on whether they got walk-in customers) but I figured I'd start with a romance bookstore in downtown Sac that I'd found on a list of such things, and then see where things went from there.

I also took the opportunity to contact some friends in town that I usually only see at conventions and arrange to meet for dinner.

The day started earlier than usual, having volunteered to drop Denise off at her colonoscopy appointment, but that was balanced by my refusal to take the suggestion of my map app of what appeared to be a ridiculous diversion off I-80...and ending up in about 30 miles of slow traffic due to construction. Dropped off the bike, then had to kill half an hour before the bookstore opened and found a cute litle patisserie nearby which served for breakfast.

The bookstore was a perfectly nice indie shop in a space they could easily fill more fully. It's divided into three "shops" on different floors, thought it's all the same establishment, with the romance shop being one floor. (Three narrow stories, but lots of open space.) It was the sort of place that works well if you want to buy books but don't have specific titles you're looking for: a combination of new releases and the sorts of older classics that can be guaranteed to sell regularly.

As usual, the romance section--though plentiful--was extremely thin on the sorts of titles I'm interested in, and I didn't find anything to buy, though I did pick up a newish Malinda Lo from the YA shelves elsewhere in the store. I chatted a bit with the proprietor and he noted that they get their biggest boost from author events.

While shopping, the bike folks called to say they were already done, so I picked it up and then had several hours to fill before dinner. So I found a park with shade and grass and I relaxed and read. Yes, people, I *can* just laze around doing nothing when I choose.

Dinner was a fairly standard (but delicious) Greek place. We chatted about books and publishing and careers and whatnot. Then back home and falling into bed.