We were at the cabin this weekend. It was a pretty typical cabin weekend, except that The Swede was sick as a dog and the weather was (barely) nice enough to be outside for a bit.
Julia took advantage of the mild weather and went hunting for rocks to paint.
We also tested the trikes Mama and Papa Swede brought out to the country for the - ahem - kids with a race down the hill. One obnoxious thing about being an adult is having to let kids win during competitions. If life was fair I would have totally creamed this little moppet.
And then, on the way home, the most exciting thing happened! I was driving while The Swede made his death bed in the back seat when up ahead I noticed some crazy-looking animal in the road. We slowed down to get a closer look at this monstrosity of a
grouse and it TOTALLY ATTACKED OUR CAR! I wanted to take a picture, naturally, but I didn't dare roll down the window because this s.o.b. had a murderous look in his eye and actually began pecking at our car. "Drive!" screamed a terrified and feverish Swede, and drive I did until we were far enough out of the bird's 'hood to park the car and check the status of the paint job. No peck marks to speak of. Don't tell The Swede (I'm convinced he just looks at the pictures here) but I kind of wish there had been some damage. That's just more street cred in my book.
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