my feet hurt.

LOro dell Azzurro by Joan Miro

I am reporting to you fresh from a date-weekend with the husband. And yes, my feet hurt. We trekked 50 miles or so down to the Baltimore Art Museum, where we walked and walked and walked and oohed and ahhed until our ankles were like sausages and our eyes were blurry and dry. It was heaven.  I have absolutely no pictures to show you because we felt too lazy to take a camera. Of course, now I wish I had pictures to display and boast about, but it really was nice being unencumbered, so I suppose my memories will have to do.

This weekend, we also:

- were nearly killed on the highway by motorcycle gangs
- sat on the rim of a fountain in the sculpture garden and fed one another dark chocolate (I don't really need porn; my life is a porn flick. ha.)
- sat in bed listening to sitar music, him reading, me sewing up some pencil/brush cases I've been working on
- went for a very long jog

What did you do this weekend?