Some of my favorite days in this existence are the random, spontaneous ones that pop up.
Yesterday was one of those days.
I had just grabbed my morning cup of cocoa coffee and sat down with a Louise Penny page turner, when I heard the low rumble of a diesel pickup lumbering down my driveway.
At first, I might have grumbled a little bit. You see, my hubs and our daughter were off at a small bore shooting match in Spokane, and son was at skeet and trap practice in Hayden, so I had planned on enjoying a bit of blissful by myself time.
Instead, my brother walked in through the front door with a box of doughnuts.
Usually, on Sundays I am podcasting with my co-host bros, but with Monday being a holiday we all decided to meet on Monday for recording. Bro didn't get that memo, so instead he and I spent a brojah-sistah day.
The first order of business was a four hour bovine fecal matter stacking session. And I mean it! We covered every topic from global politics to family dynamics. Sooo much dialogue!
Then, I noticed I was a touch peckish. It was after noon and I had yet to eat anything. As yummy as they looked, it was a no-doughnut show for me thanks to the ever-present moo juice. Bro was a total bro and ate like four of them though.
"Well, let's go find something to eat," my brother stated.
"Yes," I replied like a proper British lady of the manner instead of my hobbit of the hills self, "Let's."
Pronouncements made, we hopped in my brother's big ol black Dodge diesel Megacab and mobbed into town. To start our journey we listened to some very atypical north Idaho tunes, reggae.
The soothing beats of the tropical tunes got us even more into a vibin mood, and after a perusal through our small town, we decided to roll ten miles to the neighboring burg for some pizza.
Iron Pizza is a pretty tasty place and before you could say Double Dough we had some pretty fantastic pies in front of us. Bro had a flight of pizzas to nosh on. Three-seven inch pizzas were served to him on a wooden board, his pepperoni one was even drizzled in honey.
Me, well, I ate pizza without cheese. They were out of the dairy-free kind, but I just made up for that omission by piling on toppings. I had Peruvian sweet peppers, red onions, roast chicken, and bacon on my cheese-less pie, and honestly, the flavors were so good that I didn't really notice.
One person who did notice something was our server. She really noticed my brother. I hadn't seen that much flirting since I was stuck watching a dating reality show in a waiting room. Meow.
After our pizza fest, Bro was in such a good mood that he wanted to drive by our friend's house and say hi.
Well, say hi in a rural style that is.
We drove a few streets over, stopped in front of our bud's house, and my brother proceeded to deliver the biggest power braking of this millennia.
What was especially nice is that his new truck has the ever-present in most diesel truck owner's rigs, tuner. Thanks to said tuners you can roll coal. Apparently in our world bathing your bud's vehicles and house in a blanket of black carbon is the highest form of affection.
One thing that my brother didn't notice was our friend's neighbor standing on her porch glaring at us right across the street. As the power braking built I gasped as I saw her judging us harshly (I'm pretty sure we deserved it). Bro was laughing so hard by the time he let off the brakes that I was wondering if he was going to pass out. I had my hands over my face to hide it and the fact that I was dying from immature laughter.
It was a pretty fun time.
We topped off the fun by singing and grooving to Miley Cyrus all the way home. Flowers has more than a bit of a disco vibe and it was pretty fun to dance like the guys off of A Night At The Roxbury while driving through town.
Because even grownups need a break once from it all once in a while, even if it's sometimes a power brake.
And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's probably far more mature than she is iPhone.