Over the weekend, I was at "camp" with my parish. "Camp" in this case means Shrine Mont, the Cathedral seat of the Diocese of Virginia. Virginia has no Cathedral, but they do have Shrine Mont, where there is an outdoor Shrine. It certainly avoids the pitfalls of an expensive cathedral building to maintain, even if it means that the Cathedral isn't open during the winter months and rainstorms, and might have more than the average number of bugs in the baptismal font. (Said the student who is serving as sexton: "Oops. I'll have to clean that out.")
"Camp" also means houses, beds, and bathrooms, so it's hardly roughing it. If it had a hot spring, it would be glamping.
I took my mountain bike. The ride was just an hour and 20 minutes, but it was some nice off roads. I walked a fair amount as I don't feel confident riding over rocks or through most streams just yet. I had one fall, when I was trying to find the road and instead ended up on a hunter's tree sit area. In turning around, I skidded out on the glass of their smashed beer bottles! Little scrape, no big deal.
On Monday, M had this idea for a very fun date. He took me ice skating! I haven't done that in years. He thought it would be fun for leg strength. Let's just say that my strength and flexibility has tanked in the last year and the need for yoga and pilates is really, really confirmed. But on the bright side, we had lots of fun!
At one point, I caught my toe pick somehow and totally face-planted. It is the best sort of injury because, after the initial burn of shame subsided, it didn't really hurt at all. But I do have a rather impressive ice burn on my arm and a giant goose egg of a bruise in many really impressive colors. Seriously: green and purple and red... it's nice and round, and the first day, it was gigantic! Definitely worth the price of admission. I keep showing it to M, who makes admirable faces and says, "Ew! Ouch! Stop showing me your bruise!" So great!
Right after I fell, this little kid skated up to me. He must have been 6 or 7, and asked, "Are you OK? Do you need help ice skating?" M helpfully replied, "Oh, yes. She needs a LOT of help ice skating!" The kid replies, "It's OK. In the beginning, I fell like a thousand times. But now I hardly ever rarely fall." He skated with us for a while teaching M all sorts of handy tricks about slowing down and stuff. Thanks for the lesson, Ian!
(Yes, the kid's name was Ian. I told him I had a friend named Ian who is really tall and has a big beard. He said that was neat.)