Boys and laundry and dishes and cooking and fixing and we made play dough and it came out beautiful and Owen enjoyed that so very, very much and he made many Hulks.
"Why don't you make Superman?" I asked him.
"I can't make humans," he answered sadly.
Gibson helped his auntie play mandolin.
He is a very good and rhythmic strummer. As one would imagine.
And now there's a huge venison meatloaf in the oven and potatoes baking and Jessie and Vergil are making a lemon meringue pie and after supper they are going to town to do karaoke, starting at TEN P.M.!
Jesus. I'll be asleep by 10:15.
And tomorrow we'll say goodbye to Jessie and Vergil and Greta and pack up and drive to Apalachicola where I may sleep the entire weekend. Which may not sound very romantic to any of you young hot things who have only been in relationships for ten or twenty years but which sounds sort of incredibly perfect to me. No dogs, no chickens, no grandsons, no cooking, no laundry, no dishes....
We may do more than sleep. There might be some kissing.
Stay warm, y'all.