Monday, October 2, 2017

No Sunday off

WE DIDN'T GET a "Sunday" yesterday. In our world, where we are at the store six days a week, a "Sunday" is a day off and a chance to recover from yet another busy week. Sheryl naps, I watch football - there have been some great games this season and nothing is better than a football nap on a Sunday afternoon. We might putter around the yard, I might walk the dogs more than once, and there might be a stogie and beverage or two disappearing.

Our pile isn't quite this big ... but my back thinks it is.
But in the end, we are good at doing nothing and preparing for another week in the wild adventure we call retail.

Yesterday we didn't get a chance to do nothing. Our good friend Nick Hopper is moving to Colorado soon, so I went to his house yesterday and got stocked up in firewood - he has tons of it after several trees came down from storms the past couple of years. Why is it I'm so sore and can't move after simply tossing pieces of wood into a truck, then into the yard, then into a pile?

Because I'm old and a dumbass, but that's besides the point. Now we have enough firewood to last a long time, and I appreciate Nick being so generous.

Then we went to Emily's Quincy Symphony Orchestra, and it was .... geesh. Words fail me. My daughter was stunning and left the Morrison Theater crowd in awe, and she got a standing ovation for her efforts. So I'm bragging, and I'm proud, and I have to say I am incredibly lucky to have such a talented and amazing daughter.

I'm not dreaming - that's actually my daughter!
Then we had a reception for her at a beautiful house on Maine Street, and the whole thing was like a dream.

A pain pill and more football last night helped put me to sleep. Then we woke up to hear about the Las Vegas shooting. So we are dragging a bit this morning, and getting ready to make it through another week of guitar lessons and school band instrument rentals.

Well. There's always next Sunday to recover....

Sheryl would like two, please....





No comments:

Post a Comment