The first four days of construction at our home went well. Our things got packed. The whole place got taped and covered. New walls covered damage-exposed frames.
Friday night my wife pronounced the paint primer smell too much for her, so she, Beatrice and I spent Friday night at the local La Quinta Inn. Beatrice handled hotel living like a champ, declining to bark and acting on her best behavior. I got up at 5:50 and gave her a quick walk. Then, at 9 a.m., I took her to Allen Station Park, nearly across the street from the hotel. We had the park nearly to ourselves. We saw northern mockingbirds, mourning doves, cottontail rabbits and northern cardinals.
We checked out of the hotel and went home. The primer smell had diminished tremendously. We and Bea sat out on the patio while we aired the house out. My wife went to run errands, while I went to Renner Road to take a walk. I liked the trumpetvine in bloom:
Then I hopped on the DART train into Dallas. I went to see the movie "We are the Best!" at Mockingbird Station. I highly recommend this Swedish film about 3 13-year-olds in 1982 who form a punk band. It was the perfect movie about not fitting in and how that's okay. It is the spiritual descendant of Mike Leigh's "Life is Sweet", Bill Forsyth's "Gregory's Girl", and even a tiny bit of Lasse Hallstrom's "My Life as a Dog". It is also a good indirect primer on the issues and foibles of punk. I really enjoyed it.
I rode the train back to my car at the President George Bush Tollway. Then I grabbed a sandwich for lunch. Following lunch, I drove to Brockdale Park by Lake Lavon.
I wandered off the trail into fields of flowers. The rains this week made for a green trail area.
I saw a cool young eastern bluebird:
I'd hoped to see dickcissel, but it was too wet to go to the bushes where they perch.
I did get off the trail a bit and suddenly found myself in deep wildflowers. I loved seeing them, even though they did not need me traipsing through them. I did no damage, but I made my way back to the trail. Purple martins hovered overhead.
Tonight we sat on our patio and talked and ate more sandwiches. Beatrice loves being home, and so do I. I hope we do not have to go hotel-ward many more times, but I am proud of my elderly little dog for being such a quiet, well-behaved good soldier in her first taste of hotel living.