Why aren't weekends longer?
We went to potluck on Friday night... woot woot. I did not get to sleep in on Saturday since it was a quilt club morning, but then I went to some thrift stores and came home with lots of clothes for not a lot of money so it was worth it. Bob went fishing with my brothers that afternoon. In Matt's new boat. Which is as yet unnamed and he doesn't like any of my suggestions. (Just because all of the famous boats I've heard of were ill fated doesn't mean anything...)
Sunday we went to the farm for Hawaiian pork burgers and homemade ice cream. Er, um, sweet cream. Yeah, it didn't quite set up right... hehe. And G and G stopped by with a raspberry pie. Yum. I ate way too much.
It's so hard to get up and go to work on rainy dreary Monday mornings... especially when the laundry pile waiting for you is a small mountain. Who decided Monday would be wash day anyway?
So my sister posted a bunch of old pictures from my Grandma Schlipf... and a letter she wrote my Grandpa when they were dating:
"Dear Elmer,
Miriam was here today and said she and Joe are invited to go to Bluffton this weekend-and would I like to keep the kids. I felt like saying-"Do I want to break my leg"- but I didn't. So, unless they change their minds, I'll be in Eureka Saturday night.
If you want to come over and spend a nice quiet evening at home (with two kids), you may. If you'd rather skip this weekend, just let me know. I wouldn't blame you.
As Ever, Marjorie"
It makes me smile a lot... apparently I get it honest...
Blessings.
1 comment:
Love you dear:) I wasn't the "baby" one in the family either:) Thankfully one's own are a different situation.
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