Two Mr. D's. And a meme.
I love road trips. I'll go anywhere, nearly anytime. Unfortunately, Mr. Daroga is not of the same mindset. Mr. Daroga likes to be "productive" on his off time, which is all very well but makes for boring vacations.
A compromise was reached last weekend, and we (me, Mr. D, and the other Mr. D) went up to the San Juan Islands to rent a cabin. This cabin came with a beach, an outdoor hot tub, and a wood stove with a glass front. The area is gorgeous, and reminds me a lot of northern California. But smaller, and with more ferries.
Speaking of which, the canine Mr. D was not overly fond of the ferry on either crossing. He stayed in the car the whole time, occasionally pacing in the back seat. He liked the cabin, though--or rather, the smells outside it. He wanted to be outside all the time, which is unusual, since he usually wants to stick to us like furry glue. So we tied him up to the cabin's porch (I told him he could pretend he was a "real" pitbull), left the door open, and started working.
Mr. Daroga's working on a comic which tells the story of his dad growing up in rural Florida. There are lots of rednecks in the stories. And snakes. So Mr. D's putting together transcripts of his dad talking into a script for his comic.
I got some good work done on my book, and finished a book about cult films (it sucked) and the Cerebus volume Church and State v. 1. I also spent a lot of time walking the dog and taking photographs, which I hope will come out as awesome as they seemed to be at the time.
Usually, I'm an advocate of camping. Mostly because it's cheap, but it's also fun. However, the cabin really was ideal. Even though we did what we were supposed to be doing anyway, doing it Someplace Else was good. I think it lifted the burden of other, more mundane commitments, off our backs.
Plus, I made a kickass fire. Mr. D was not even impressed. He is a fool, and does not appreciate me.
* * *
( twelve character meme )
A compromise was reached last weekend, and we (me, Mr. D, and the other Mr. D) went up to the San Juan Islands to rent a cabin. This cabin came with a beach, an outdoor hot tub, and a wood stove with a glass front. The area is gorgeous, and reminds me a lot of northern California. But smaller, and with more ferries.
Speaking of which, the canine Mr. D was not overly fond of the ferry on either crossing. He stayed in the car the whole time, occasionally pacing in the back seat. He liked the cabin, though--or rather, the smells outside it. He wanted to be outside all the time, which is unusual, since he usually wants to stick to us like furry glue. So we tied him up to the cabin's porch (I told him he could pretend he was a "real" pitbull), left the door open, and started working.
Mr. Daroga's working on a comic which tells the story of his dad growing up in rural Florida. There are lots of rednecks in the stories. And snakes. So Mr. D's putting together transcripts of his dad talking into a script for his comic.
I got some good work done on my book, and finished a book about cult films (it sucked) and the Cerebus volume Church and State v. 1. I also spent a lot of time walking the dog and taking photographs, which I hope will come out as awesome as they seemed to be at the time.
Usually, I'm an advocate of camping. Mostly because it's cheap, but it's also fun. However, the cabin really was ideal. Even though we did what we were supposed to be doing anyway, doing it Someplace Else was good. I think it lifted the burden of other, more mundane commitments, off our backs.
Plus, I made a kickass fire. Mr. D was not even impressed. He is a fool, and does not appreciate me.
* * *
( twelve character meme )
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