Recuperation

CardGals: Episode 5: cardgals.tumblr.com

Friday morning’s soundtrack should have been “Taps.” The whole city was feeling it, despite the mild sunshine of a mid-October morning. A steady cold gray rain would have been more appropriate.

Puck had almost forgotten about his breakfast oatmeal. Not because he was upset at the Cardinals’ loss – he expressed casual, and appropriate, sympathy to his mom – but because he was nose-deep in a book of poetry. Poems about cheeseburgers and forklifts and other boy-things.

A few hours later, my boys had hit the asphalt on a three-and-a-half-hour road trip to watch Curly and Lulu play music with the Gettys in Peoria.

This left me with my own work to do out at the Big House, chiefly recording a podcast worthy of funeral bells with Carrie-Bri.

By the time this was recorded, edited, and posted, Dad had returned early from work. Francis was napping on the couch – again. And Dad was already hunting dinner. The verdict arrived in the form of Subway sandwiches. He reluctantly took orders. We’re all just so incredibly social around here; we love telling Subway sandwich crafters all about pickles and mayonnaise and mustard. Speaking of pickles …

Yes, Stray Kitty Number # – well, I’ve lost count at this point – had now been officially dubbed: Pickles. Stinkerbelle and Pickles. It just couldn’t be any other way.

We ate the Subway sandwiches while the boys watched a documentary: “Search for the Abominable Snowman.” (Francis fell asleep for just part of it.)

These were Linnea-Irish’s almost-last volleyball games of the season, and of her high school career. This time, Dad and I were the only two available to witness the five matches go down at Thomas Jefferson School in South County. This was after we stopped at Old Navy for one of the girls to buy a pair of replacement socks.

Linnea was mad by the last match; so competitive. So were one or two of her buddies. But they won the first game, so.

We left way late. Linnea and her friend (who also worked at Dairy Queen) discussed what they didn’t like about work, and then decided to drive back up there to study until 10:30.

So because my boys were gone, I just crashed on the living room floor again on a pile of pillows and blankets.

Also about this time we learned that Francis was stuck on the Ninja at Six Flags.