Legs in (or out)
I have this cute li’l timehop app with a dinosaur and everything that shows me old pics from the last eight (!) years. Sometimes they bring me good memories, sometimes I swipe through them lickety-split, not wanting to remember. Sometimes they are just as funny as a crutch. Like this one. Whaaaaaa?
It’s a good thing I captioned it when I originally posted it because otherwise I would have no clue that these boyz were scraping paint! It is the Twinz of Terror and one of their long-suffering brothers-in-law. But not the Lord of Linden, as I figured out when I looked up the pic in August 2009 and saw some other similar pics that showed more than legs. They are scraping paint on the Houghton Lake garage. Don’t you love the little garden? The UU is the garden master and I can remember the years that Mouse helped him put flowers in. Others also help. In the CFam, people pitch in when they can and/or have expertise and there is very little squabbling, which is a good thing for meeeeee because I am not often all that much help. Although I *do* wash dishes, one of my (few) areas of expertise.
So then, I segued over (I don’t even know why) to Legs Inn, which is a restaurant in Cross Village, MI, that might be on my bucket list if I had one (parachuting out of an airplane would DEFINITELY not be on it). We kind of almost tried to go to Legs Inn this summer. We had a tentative plan for a road trip to Cross Village with lunch at Legs Inn penciled in. As it turned out, we scheduled it for a Friday and on Wednesday night, things took a turn toward fun and busy as my MacMu cousins confirmed that they would indeed be coming up for the weekend! Okay, we’ll still go to Cross Village but since Legs Inn doesn’t open until noon, maybe we should seek out lunch on our way back, like in Iggy or Mack. We needed to get back to get some things done and make dinner before our guests arrived.
So we had an idyllic trip down to Cross Village. We visited the town park on Lake Michigan there and the art center. And then. Dun dun dun. We were barely out of Cross Village when the Frog Hopper lit dashboard lights. I had been picking at the GG all morning. Do we need gas? Not yet. Do we need gas? Not yet. There was a gas station in Cross Village and I had asked again. Not yet. Then the lights came on and even though they had nothing to do with what was in the gas tank he said, “Okay we’ll go back and get gas”. And hook up the OBD device and look at what the code is.
Our trip back was not as idyllic as our trip down but we made it home on five-ish cylinders and even stopped at our dependable old Driftwood Inn for lunch in Iggy. Someday I hope we make it to Legs Inn but we had a fantastic time with our MacMu cousins and I would rather spend time with them than go to a restaurant any day of the week!