My brother Pete came to visit me this past weekend for a little sibling hang-out time sans parents. Without our dad around, we were free to stay up late and watch violent movies with lots of cussing! It ruled! Actually, he is almost 30 now, and we are for the most just a couple of slightly boring old people. This did not stop us from having some fun, of course.
The Friday he arrived it was an absolutely gorgeous day, so of course we had to have lunch downtown and then stroll around the scenic campus:
It was kind of funny, because he had forgotten to tell our dad that he was coming to visit me (they live in the same town and therefore see each other pretty regularly), so I texted Dad the picture above and was all, “Surprise, look who is in town!” and Dad thought that was my patio in the photograph. It is not. I wish.
We met up with CW and had drinks and dinner, which involved both Manhattans and soju and a ton of really spicy Korean food. It was delicious. The next day was tinged, however, with regret. That dinner was spicy, I tell you.
Speaking of food, prepare to be jealous: Pete can eat probably more than double the daily calories I consume and yet he is not overweight. He’s an RN in a cardiac unit and therefore is on his feet all day, plus he works out, but still, picture this: We go to a coffee/sandwich shop for lunch and he peruses the baked goods selecting several. The counter girl asks him, making sure she’s got his order right, “So that’s the muffin, the bagel, the cinnamon roll, and the cheesecake…?” To which my brother replies, “And a salad.” Yes, he ate all of those things for lunch. It is baffling. “AND A SALAD,” HE SAYS. “AND A SALAD.”
(Above: the charming rooftop seating area where we lunched. I refrained from photographing the food.)
We spent Saturday evening grilling on my patio — the guys had steaks and I had a veggie burger — and drinking interesting beers. Check out the cork from this bottle of Chimay:
Yes, that’s my birthday on there, for whatever inscrutable reason. I took it as a good sign.
Sunday we did a little local hiking in the state park:
Humid as the inside of a dog’s mouth out there, but beautiful. I guess we worked up an appetite, because after that, someone (not me) ate an entire block of Tillamook cheddar with crackers as one of his lunch courses. Why didn’t I get that metabolism, I ask? Life is so unfair.