Bad weather always looks worse through a window.
I envy the trees. Their mindful growth. No worry of the future, no regret of the past. Only reach. Grow. Endure winter. Expect spring.
I envy the flowers. Bloom authentically. Attract bees. And butterflies. And buggy bugs. Smell delicious. Scatter seeds.
I envy the path. Cares not where its going; nor where its been. Not burdened by guests; insects, mammals, humans. Not lonely with the lack thereof. Here for those who seek.
I envy the sky. Stormy anger. Bitter rain. Peaceful blue. Quietly watches. Patiently listens. Trustworthy secret-keeper.
I envy the soil. Cool, earthy, deep. Receives the trees, the flowers, the path. Consumes the sky. Provides.
Why do I keep showing you the weather on my week of PTO? In Minnesota, we are all about the weather. “How’s about that weather we’re having?” “Cold enough for ya?” “Gonna snow, ya think?” The only thing certain about Minnesota weather is that it is going to change. Four of my last five staycations have been terrible, crappy, no-good weather. While I can find a good time in any weather, it was becoming a real drag. So you see, the weather is definitely relevant to my PTO.
Tuesday, Day 2:
I’m not sure if I was pooped from all the work I did Monday, or shell-shocked at the money I spent on my car, but Tuesday was a day of indolence. Absolutely nothing was marked off the list as long as my arm. I didn’t even play XBox.
I spent the morning wishing I could make some pre-planned menus. You know, healthy menus that I don’t have to think about on the workday. I just pick one and that’s what I’m making and eating for the day. Instead I surfed a lot, grazed a lot — looking at all that internet food makes me hungry — and planned lunch with my third-born. He is turning 22 on Thursday.
We had a burger and a beer at the 5-8 Club. We watched some of the Twins game, which they won. We talked. You don’t get a lot of talk out of this guy. He is pretty much one-word answers and a teddy-bear smile. But maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the atmosphere, but on Tuesday we talked.
He had a Roadhouse Burger consisting of a burger with bacon, onion rings and cheese. I had my usual cheeseburger with fried onions. Yes. I’m a regular, and proud of it.
He ate all his fries, then all his cole slaw, and then finally started in on his burger. When I asked him about it, he said he always eats it that way. How does a kid get to be 22 years of age, and I never knew he always eats like that?
Another thing about living here is what they call the Minnesota Goodbye. It lasts forever, and there are several segments, fewer if the temperature is below zero Fahrenheit.
The pre-goodbye: Well, thanks for having lunch with me . .
The pre-goodbye hug: Hey! Happy birthday, Big Guy!
The kicking of tires: So how’s it running? Yup, yup, I just had some work done on mine . .
The summary: I’ll check out that paint you mentioned . . .
The one thing you forgot: Hey, by the way, what do you need for your birthday? Black socks and underwear? Okeee then . . .
The advice: So have a good time with your brother this Saturday. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do . . er . . . be safe . .
The final hug: I love you.
The final goodbye: Bubbye!
I managed to turn on American Restoration before crashing on the couch. Afternoon alcohol will always do that to me.
The dogs woke me up in time to run to the grocery store. I had promised Bubba a meal Tuesday after he made a Popeye’s Chicken run for me on Monday. He had texted me that night:
Bubba: On my way . . . I’m going to be hungry . . . Not saying . . Just sayin
Me: I just got done with all my cleaning. I’m not sayin’ . . . I’m just sayin’
So he picked up a chicken sandwich for each of us. And the next day I sauteed chicken breasts, steamed asparagus and roasted potatoes. I win!
Me: Wouldn’t you like to have a kept woman who would have meals waiting for you every night like this?
Me: Okay, well we’ll revisit this again when you win the lottery.