I am looking forward to this weekend (which will begin at whatever time I get this albatross of an obesity book from around my neck). Tonight, should the stars align and a time machine be invented and I finish this book surprisingly earlier than I think I will, there is a Cinco de Mayo happy hour over in Barracks Row. Michael has promised Mexican wrestling masks, which has potential, I think, for some intriguing scenarios.

Tomorrow is Sheep and Wool. I mean, come on — sheep and wool! And alpacas and angora bunnies and llamas and goats and sheepdogs and spindles and spinning wheels and fresh-squeezed lemonade and eclairs the size of your head and … and … and …

No, I’m not that excited. Why do you ask?

Check back Saturday night or Sunday for photos and a recap of events and purchases.

Sunday brings the farmers’ market. We’re trying something new each market in May. Last week was stinging nettles, which Rudi turned into a yummy soup last night based on Clotilde’s recipe. It was bright green! Rhubarb has been promised to go with the season’s strawberries. That might be something to try as a dessert. Although it will be hard to beat the pairing two days ago of strawberries, fresh whipped cream, and the rest of the chocolate torte cake Gramma made at Easter. (I don’t know how it lasted that long in the fridge either; who hid it in plain sight?)

And then we have a baseball game. I don’t remember who’s playing the Nationals this weekend, but given our record, it is a distinct possibility they will beat us. Since I know it is not the Mets coming to town, I can root wholeheartedly for the Nats to stop losing.

I hope to squeeze a lot of fun (and a lot of sleep) into this weekend. Next week is going to be another rough one at work, so it would be nice to feel that there had been some sort of break in there.