A day spent working, not at work, but working still. Brushed sand into the paver porch as a joint stabilizer, poured some river rock on the new pad where we erected a shed the other day – Frank helped out with it all. It was good, working in the sun with my brother, smoking my pipe while we rocked an Allman Brothers show from the Fillmore that’s some thirty years old. After that I mowed the lawn and cleaned the shower – a good working Monday, none of it in a cube or in front of a monitor. Breaking a sweat outside is good, especially for the good of your own property – makes a guy feel accomplished, worth something.
Sharaun’s folks get in tomorrow (today as you read this). For the first time in five years, Sharaun’s gonna do Thanksgiving dinner here at home. We’re serving six: her folks and her little brother, and my brother as well. I’m actually excited, we’re always gone for the major holidays – so we’ve never really had the chance to “christen” our house with a good Thanksgiving meal or Christmas morning. It’ll be nice, one more step towards us being a full-fledged family; a family who stays up late on Christmas putting together Castle Greyskulls and Ewok Villiages while their children sleep. I dunno, I guess I’m somewhat obsessed with what I perceive to be our “transition” to parents, to a “family” moreso than we were before just the two of us. Frank and I were sitting in the backyard today, admiring our work, when he asked me what I planned on putting in a largish open area of grass. “I dunno,” I said, “A swingset maybe.” “A swingset,” he repeated, “Yeah, I guess you’ll need that soon, huh?” Yeah, I guess I will.
Right here, where you’re reading this, I had three different paragraphs started – and subsequently deleted. With that as my track record, and considering it’s late and I’m tired – I’m calling this match here. Blank page-1, Dave-0.