The morning started out rather uniquely here at the castle. Two of my husband’s friends arrived late last night in anticipation of their early morning departure on a motorcycle extravaganza. The four of us were about to enjoy breakfast when the Xfinity guy showed up on time (!) to update our outmoded equipment. My son rose from slumber, the fourth compatriot on the journey arrived, and the dog was underfoot for all of it. Brief version.
There is always a “rider’s meeting,” before embarkation begins. The voices get gruff, the riding gear is donned, and cheerful banter is discontinued. This is serious. It’s truly like preparation for battle, viewed from the estrogen-side of life.
The most notable part? How calm and quiet it was when the men exited. I wonder if the mistress of the castles of yore felt the same drop in testosterone? And did they contemplate painting the “drawing room” while the master was away? Or did they call up the local spa and spend a day being pampered? They probably didn’t fire up the chainsaw to chop down a dead tree! Well, I won’t do that either, because I need that testosterone to get that stupid chainsaw started.
I really like the accurate description of the riders meeting in the donning of the gear. What a wonderful perspective.