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Yali and I walked out into the almost balmy morning sunshine. Granted it was on the fall-ish side of balmy, but still warm enough to wear a t-shirt.

Linnea-Irish was my baby sitter of choice for the day. In fact, she was the only baby sitter available.

When we walked in the front door, Mom was finishing her daily Andy Griffith over a late breakfast before heading out to the hospital. Grandma’s surgery was scheduled for 1:15.

From the looks of things, Irish and Thumper were just waking up. They had stayed up late watching a horror movie and Irish had orientation at Applebee’s that afternoon.

About half an hour later, I was back on the road to school once again to answer phones and keep an eye on the office while the staff had their weekly Tuesday meeting.

When I got back to the Big House unexpectedly early, Yali was ready for lunch. After he sat in the corner following a two-second temper tantrum.

“It’s funny,” Irish told me. “He does have a temper but it only lasts a few seconds. Today, he bumped his head on something, and he got mad, so then he attacked the umbrellas. But he hadn’t even bumped his head on the umbrellas.”

About mid-afternoon we learned that Grandma’s 40 minute hip surgery had been successful. She was already accepting visitors, and word on the street was she’d be walking again that evening. Grandma eats nails for breakfast.

That night when Oxbear got back to manage the boys, I ran a few errands. Walking out of Dierberg’s, that small slice of moon in the west, Arabian Nights style, low rose light fade.

When I got back, the boys were flavoring pork steaks in the crockpot.

“Let’s put in some applesauce!”

“Okay!”

“What about some malt balls?”

“Yeah!”

I wouldn’t be sampling this particular batch of meat come Wednesday morning.

Meanwhile, things were looking up in Milwaukee…

CARDINALS:

Cards beat Brewers, 3-1 on Jason Heyward’s 2-run blast.

3 games up on Pittsburgh: 90 and 54; 18 games remaining.

Magic Number: 16.