Good Morning Gentle Readers,
I recently stopped by my son's place with homemade burritos, blueberries, coffee, and carrot cake (Pops is great! Brings us the carrot cake!). There was also a baggie of sliced ham for Latka, my grand-dog, who was once best friends with Beans. The breakfast was neatly arranged on sturdy holiday plates, sealed with foil, and then stacked up neatly inside a heavy brown bag with handles that we had brought leftovers home from some fancy restaurant in. Can't say that I don't recycle. The bag was a dead give away, though. Logan spotted it and a grin widened across his face: Pops, did you bring us breakfast?
Jacob had asked for some help installing his very first set of Christmas lights. He was gracious enough to call it helping, but, strictly speaking, it barely rose to the level of loose supervision. Sure, the importance of bringing the right drill bit along cannot be overstated. I also spotted him on the ladder a couple of times. But mostly we chatted and I played with the grandkids. Lucie and Logan proudly announced to every passer-by (from the back of the truck inside the shell) that they were playing inside Pop's truck.
Now they're REAL homeowners. With Christmas lights.
And three years ago today marked move-in day for the kids. Serendipity?
As Ever,
Photo Credit (unless otherwise noted): ©TWC, all rights reserved
