We rather wasted the morning driving to Kansas (getting lost along the way) to look at a trailer to pull behind our motorcycle. It was too much money, too big and ugly a trailer, for our purposes. At least we know.
We ate out (again... I know, aren't we awful?) at Smokehouse barbecue, bringing home plenty of leftovers that our grandson quickly consumed, and a box of bones for the dogs.
Cliff's sister and her husband arrived on their Harley; they were heading to eat out somewhere and wondering if we'd like to go along. We informed them we were stuffed as full as ticks, but agreed to ride with them to the best local Pizza Hut, and visit with them while they ate. We intended to go to Kleinschmidts afterward and shop for Wranglers and chaps, but turns out they were closed for the holiday.
We all thought we'd just go for a nice ride, but the clouds overcame us and sprinkles appeared on the windshield. We made a mad dash for home and beat the rain, which didn't amount to that much after all.
Once here with Charlene and Pat, our daughter, Rachel, and her family came over; we ended our Memorial Day weekend hanging out in the shop, talking and laughing. Charlene tried to talk me out of my new dog, Annie (no way) and Pat tried to talk me out of my Republican politics (even a worse mistake). I told him I will vote for anybody who convinces me they will get us out of Iraq (except Hillary), but I was born a Republican and I will die a Republican.
I think I shut him up on that subject, so we'll probably all have a peaceful trip together to Colorado.
I can be a brat sometimes.