It's a very green October

Cliff and I had no destination in mind when we left on the Gold Wing yesterday. Florida might have been a good idea, because we were both uncomfortably cold after riding for a half hour. We had on lots of clothes, plus our leathers; but it was only 40 degrees when we left, and riding a motorcycle at sixty miles per hour at that temperature is just plain frigid; we stayed our course, though. Cliff started taking blacktops east and south until one of them changed to gravel; then we turned around and went back to highway 50, which took us through Warrensburg. I was amazed at the lack of fall color; we'd see an occasional bright yellow or orange tree, and some trees were just beginning to show slight change. Nothing spectacular, though. I can look toward our pasture and woods and see more color. Oh, and the grass is still spring-green.

When Cliff said, "Where now?", I suggested Sedalia, whose Liberty Park is one of our favorite picnic spots; it's old, but well-kept. There's a rest room available; that's a much-welcomed sight when you've been riding for two hours.

We spent at least forty-five minutes there, and by the time we got back on the bike, we had thawed out and were comfortable the rest of the ride. We took a different route home, Highway 65; for some reason, we saw a lot more fall colors on that route than the other. The hill on which Bothwell Lodge sits was sporting more color than we'd seen anywhere else.

We stopped by Peters' Orchard and were happy to find some Fuji apples; we bought a peck. I'd much rather have gotten them at Rasa Orchard, which is closer to home: their apples are better quality, and cheaper. But I didn't want to chance their being out of Fujis again.

Sadie is finally back on her Science Diet dog food. She made me feel like a terrible person, following me around the house with those sad eyes as though she was starving. Someone suggested I chop some chicken up in tiny chunks and mix it with some kibble. Ha! Sadie nosed carefully through the mix, licking off each individual piece of dog food to get any trace of chicken, while not actually eating the dog food! I finally took the tough-love approach and let her get really hungry; she consumed almost her usual amount last night. I noticed Midtown Miscreant had the same problem with his dog, recently; you can read about that toward the end of THIS ENTRY on his blog. Except Max's addiction was sirloin, not chicken.

So, life can proceed as usual: we've had our first motorcycle ride in two weeks, and Sadie is back to her hyperactive, kibble-eating self.

I would have taken some pictures of what little fall color we saw, but I had my leather gloves on trying to keep my fingers from turning into icicles. It's hard to handle a camera under those conditions.