DH and I went for a walk. Since it was my idea to go for the walk, I thought I was being clever by letting him choose the route. HA! More the fool me, because doggoned if he didn’t choose every uphill path we stumbled across!
When I whined about it, he noted that you had to go uphill if you wanted to go downhill. For my part, however, I’d have been perfectly content to do neither and walk on a relatively flat route! (Note the emphasis on “relatively” here; this is not precisely flat country.) On the other hand, we did get to see these little lovelies:
Spring is here. Soggy, grey, and rainy, but it’s here.
And of course, we DID eventually go downhill.
That’s DH standing halfway down this particular “downhill” waiting for his wife who was moving rather like a geriatric arthritic grasping every limb, sapling, and clump of weeds to help her get down that little slope without crashing ignobly into a tree or, worse, sliding her screaming way off the edge and into a tidy little rocky gorge on the left.
I’m tellin’ ya . . . Next time? I pick the route.
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