On my way to the dog park, I got a bit turned around, because I was trying to stay on the pedestrian paths and stay out of the bicyclists' way. At one point, just past Golden Gate Fields, the pedestrian path veered away from the bicycle path, and suddenly I wasn't going the right way anymore. I looked around, tried to recognize the landscape, then realized that it was getting late and I should head back. So no dog park for me. Sad.
It was pitch dark when I got home (around 5:30), so I'm glad I turned around when I did. In particular, the Ohlone Greenway would have been no fun at all after dark, since it is mostly unlit. The same thing with the path along the bay. So I would have had to walk on major streets, and that would have been much less enjoyable.
So now my legs are a little sore. I've never hit my walking limit before, and it's a bit humbling. I've walked 10 miles in a day before, but never all in one stretch like I did today. Every time I have bent down toward the floor or to sit on the couch this evening, my legs have complained. Nothing terrible, but I imagine I will be stiff tomorrow.
On my walk, I finished listening to The Silver Chair, and started on Louise Erdrich's The Plague of Doves. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue with Doves, though, because I'm finding the language and imagery just too too beautiful, and I feel like it all goes by too quickly when it's being read aloud. I would like to linger, savor, explore. Listening to it on audio, I feel as if I'm experiencing the book with someone pushing me constantly from behind. It may be that I only like audiobooks of less literary books, with less exciting writing. Like The Kite Runner and The Chronicles of Narnia. Stories, rather than literature. I shall think on it.
Then Shannon and I bought groceries, as is our usual Saturday wont, and that is always exciting. Frozen dinners were on sale, which is doubly exciting. When we went to the cashier, we got the worst possible bagger, Russian Bagger Guy. He's always taking things out of my hands, insisting that he do all the packing, and then he packs the backpacks too heavy while I'm not looking. Shannon and I discussed my Rules of Grocery Bagging on the way home, and I realized that my rules are more complicated than I realized. For example, I judge rather subjectively whether the backpacks are too heavy. I just know when to stop. Russian Bagger Guy thinks I am He-Man, apparently, and that I can carry the whole world on my shoulders. Shannon pointed out, "My bag isn't too heavy." Quoth me: "Well, yeah. That's because I packed your bag." But Shannon and I, and our frozen dinners, and our bananas, and our Pop Tarts, and our juice, and our rice cakes, and our bread, and everything all got home safely, and I didn't get a hernia or dislocate either of my shoulders, so it all turned out right in the end.
Then I had salad for dinner, with lettuce and red pepper and mushrooms and chicken and a sort of sweet-and-sour dressing. Yum.
Then Shannon read to me from Gene Wolfe. Shannon tells me that I underestimated how much of Return to the Whorl we have left. We will probably finish it by the end of the week, then it's on to the next Harry Dresden book.
Tomorrow we were supposed to be getting together with Katherine and Michael to play Rock Band (apparently there is a Beatles version), but it turns out Michael got pneumonia! So we're going to have to put it off. I think Shannon will really like Rock Band, because he loves to sing. He sings to the cats all the time.
So I'm not sure what we'll be doing tomorrow. I doubt, however, that I will be up to a bike ride, not after today's walk. But you never know ... maybe I won't be sore at all!
And now I find myself exhausted after a long but beautiful day. I bet I'll sleep well tonight!
