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Jake is happy with us again.

We took him riding on Sunday afternoon. And we stopped at a park. And at a Tim Hortons. And he had a Timbit. We didn’t intentionally suck up to him, but after last weekend, I admit, it worked out rather well.

The sun finally came out Sunday afternoon. We were planning an afternoon of outdoor projects until I looked up and saw a very tiny patch of blue sky. That was all it took for me to badger Steve into going riding (and it honestly didn’t take much persuasion).

We decided to ride toward the clearing sky, so we headed through Chelsea and Greenfield, a great road, and then down to Liverpool. There’s a wonderful stretch of brand new pavement there – it was kind of like riding heaven.

Our first stop was the park in Milton. It’s along the Mersey River. For the life of me, I can’t recall the name right now, but it’s a wonderful spot. Jake romped around on the grass, climbed over some rocks and stared at the river which was flowing rapidly after all the rain we’ve had. It was really beyond beautiful there.

Then we took one of my favourite roads down to Liverpool. The road itself is in rough shape, but the views of the Mersey River and the properties along it are stunning. I love that ride.

After a stop, a snack and a chat at Tims, we headed out through Brooklyn (I’m fond of that twisty stretch of road too), onto the highway until the Voglers Cove exit, then back to Bridgewater along the ocean and the LaHave River.

Sigh. It was a great afternoon for all of us.

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Steve and I did the one thing we’re not allowed to do this weekend and we’ve been paying for it ever since — we went on the bikes without our RoadDog.

Jake is not happy with us.

When Jake isn’t happy with us, he let’s us know. He ignores us. He lies on the living room rug with his back to us. He goes upstairs without us. He turns his head away if one of us tries to get close to him. He’s been doing all of those things since Saturday.

Our motorcycle club had its annual poker run on Saturday. For those who don’t know, a poker run is an event where riders pay so much for a hand — in our case $5. Then you follow a route laid out by the host club, a series of distances, directions and roads. You either draw cards at specified stops to create a poker hand or, as we do, you gather certain pieces of information, such as the names of certain churches or businesses on the route, and at the end draw cards based on the number of correct answers. The person with the best hand wins a prize.

It’s usually a lot of fun and a good chance to travel some roads you might not otherwise ride. The problem is, as the host club, we provided warm and cold drinks and snacks after the run and I couldn’t very well have Jake underfoot while helping out with that, so … he had to stay home. He was not happy.

We did take him for a ride on Friday evening, but I think he may have forgotten that in his annoyance over Saturday. And we did buy him some Timbits on Saturday evening, but that just didn’t seem to quite get him over it all. Plus we had too many things to do on Sunday to go riding.

Oh well, I hope it stays sunny so we can get him out one evening soon. Otherwise, this could be a very long week.

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I have no tales of motorcycle rides with RoadDog to share with you this week because, sadly enough, despite the sunshine on Saturday, we only got to walk by the bikes a few times and sigh. Steve and I are back in the world of home repairs.

While I’m seriously debating the merits of selling our house in favour of a condo and letting someone else worry about the work, I guess that’s really not an option at this point. So, this weekend was all about hammers and power tools and manual labour. I won’t bore you with the details, other than to say it would sound like a simple task just replacing a back door, but it grows by leaps and bounds when it involves repairing a rotting sill and a bit of floor, making the space for the door larger, then tearing off the shingles from that section of the house and putting up clapboard instead. Steve had a long week off last week and we both had a very long, tiring weekend.

And so did Jake. Our boy is accustomed to spending his weekdays napping, so having Steve around doing repairs all week certainly left him tired. He was the best of dog, however, staying out of the way and not getting into things, quite something for a dog who likes to stick his nose in whatever business is going on around him.

There was a very funny moment that I want to share though. As part of this door replacement, Steve had to tear out the floor by the back door. (Yes, I actually came home from work one lunch hour to discover that there was a hole in the floor and another one in the wall below the door. It was quite a week.) Anyway, that meant tearing up the ceramic tile by the door (I told you it was quite the project) which started with moving everything away from the door. That included Jake’s two baskets of toys.

So, that first morning, Steve picked up the toy baskets and moved them about five feet to the other side of the entertainment unit. Jake watched this manoeuvre with interest and not a little dismay.

He then looked Steve in the face, picked up his nearest toy – an orange stuffed bear – carried it over to where his baskets usually sit and dropped it on the floor, for all the world as if he was saying, “Hello, they go here. Don’t touch my stuff.” Steve promptly got down on the floor, explained to Jake why he had to move the toys and that he’d put them back as soon as he finished the repairs.

That seemed to pacify our RoadDog. And ever since then, really, he’s been too tired to care most of the time.

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Sometimes everything just sort of falls into place and works.

I wasn’t having a very good day Sunday. I was actually feeling rather cranky and out of sorts with the world, but Steve and I had decided we’d go for a ride for the afternoon and we’d already told Jake we were going on the bikes so he was pacing around the kitchen waiting to leave. So … off we went.

At Steve’s suggestion we rode along the west side of the LaHave River then on down to Liverpool with only one brief jaunt on Highway 103 where we didn’t have much choice. I think we were somewhere around Beach Meadows, a beautiful little community, when my bad mood finally blew off my shoulders and landed somewhere in a ditch behind me. (I hope it doesn’t jump on anyone else as they walk by.)

Riding is like that. Some days it takes awhile, as it did with me on Sunday, but eventually, with the wind in your face, the sun shining above you and the road beneath your two wheels, you find your own sort of peace.

We took a detour down to the Lighthouse park in Port Medway too. For anyone who has never seen it, this place really is a hidden gem and well worth the trip over the bumpy road to get there. There are gardens and park benches and wonderful views of the sea, a look off, a lighthouse and a gazebo, all packed into one smallish waterfront park. Jake ambled about and had a great time. Steve and I breathed in some sea air.

From there, it was on to Liverpool for a stop at Tims (yes, Jake had his usual Timbit) and a chat with some riders there. We travelled home via Greenfield and Chelsea, another wonderful ride. All in all, all three of us ended up having a great afternoon.

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