And in other recreational times: we went bowling. We might've gone by ourselves, but there's one of bunny_hugger's friends from grad school whom she doesn't see enough, who had been looking for a while for something we could get together to do, and we figured this was just the right sort of thing that could be fit into any of our schedules. We'd been bowling as recently as ... well, a couple months ago when we made one of the mid-Michigan furry meetups, and I got very close to breaking 100 that time, and bunny_hugger might have if she didn't try the second game to bowl while in fursuit, which is not the worst possible way to bowl if you want to knock down pins, in that it is technically possible to bowl by hollering at the ball until it feels a sense of shame and rolls down the alley on its own.
So, in terms of actually knocking down pins, it was a disaster, at least for me --- the first game I managed to knock down anything only one throw out of two, and the second game was only marginally better --- and for bunny_hugger. Her friend commented on his having a lousy game too, something that you say when you're being nice and trying to not point out that your score is about the same as the sum of your opponents', and that you got at least eight in each of the first four frames.
Anyway, the alley had wonderfully old-fashioned yet automated scoring machines, the kind that predate having computer animations. We crawled around the central computer unit to see if there were any hint of a date or manufacturer or anything; no luck. But the displays gave us that wonderful late-80s graphic style of not-quite-dot-matrix work and we were enchanted by it because that's the sort of people we are. Also we were surprised to see how good the menu looked, even for folks trying to eat vegetarian; if we'd known we probably would have had lighter lunches.
Her friend had also written a short story, out of those mysterious impulses that come to people sometime, and he'd hoped for our opinions on it. It wasn't the sort of story I usually read --- a thirtyish guy who gives the sense of being the author remembers stuff until he notices a kid right now being cute --- but it seemed competently assembled. bunny_hugger offered some critiques based on literary merit and on the points of pond-keeping that he didn't know, and we got out of ``could you read my short story and tell me what you think'' without any party involved thinking worse of the other.
Trivia: After arriving in Britain in 1757 William Herschel first tried to survive by giving music lessons; he was by 1760 employed by the Earl of Darlington to train the band of the Durham Militia. Source: George III, Christopher Hibbert.
Currently Reading: Astounding Days, Arthur C Clarke.