Maybe not quite a few, but slightly more than a couple. Is there a word for that?
Sunday was full of food and drink and visiting.
It seems I have been in training all this month for the upcoming cabin shenanigans.
We went out to the cabin around ten on Sunday morning to have a delicious breakfast with mom and Jerry. Everything seems to taste better out there. Plus everything Jerry cooks seems to taste awesome to begin with. So everything that morning tasted more awesome. And all I had to do in return was move about some barbecues and dishwashers. And Guillaume was there to help out with the moving and the eating. He's a cool cat, that one.
And after the eating and the moving there was the chatting and the planning. Will be out at the cabin again on Wednesday to visit with an aunt I haven't seen in yonks. Looking forward to that.
To work of some off the food (and to take a break from Dragon Quest IX) I walked to the top of the hill to give my dad a call.
The reception at the cabin is not the greatest. Better than at Lafleche, which is to say that there is some. Some, but not usually enough.
I was calling dad because he lives just down the way from the cabin and because it was his wife, Diane's birthday on Saturday. I was calling to apologize for not calling a day earlier.
Dad invited us out for dinner at this place.
So we went to his place for dinner. I apologized to Diane in person. Which was unnecessary. Her birthday is not on the 17th, but the 18th!
I always thought it was the 17th. Like, that date is stuck in there as her birthday. I'm probably going to get it wrong again next year, so entrenched is that misplaced belief.
They cooked up some delicious food and kept pouring delicious plonk and their friends Butch and Diane showed up and we all had a fine time.
Mayhap too fine, as Carla and I had to rush home to beat the Craven traffic, which we barely did. At that special time of night when all the bugs are out and magnetized to windshields.
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