When the Saints Come Marching In

Started off an absolutely gorgeous Sunday morning with Peanut Butter Whole Wheat Pancakes, the WOGL Brunch With the Beatles show (their movie Help! was in the spotlight), and a call to Mom. Mom was fine. She and Keefe went to a block party in their neighborhood last night and had a great time. Keefe had gone out to breakfast with Anny and her brood. Skylar's doing better at school, too. Apparently, he has a young teacher and aides who are used to dealing with difficult or clingy children. Mom says he loves going to school now.

I made a glaze for my Peaches and Cream Cake, then headed over to Uncle Ken's for the Saints-Eagles game. Jessa was there, spending the weekend with her father, as were Uncle Ken and Dolores, back from North Carolina. Samantha and David and their kids and Karen and Jim and their son CJ came in a bit later. Dolores' grandchildren Mercedes and Blake were there when I arrived.

The tinkling notes of a Mr. Softee ice cream truck cut through the screams and hoots and hollers about mid-way through the second quarter. Naturally, the six kids wanted ice cream the moment they heard the music. Most of their parents said "no," but Uncle Ken and Jessa ended up buying all of them soft ice cream in cones anyway. I didn't get any. I was full enough from the popcorn, pretzels, hulless caramel corn, sausage sandwiches, and pepperoni bread in the house. Not to mention, I hadn't bought any money with me and wasn't about to beg for it.

I joined the kids on the porch with their messy cones (after a detour inside when Blake accidentally got my elbow in his ice cream). We were deciding whether Mercedes' slurped chocolate ice cream looked more like a hitchhiker's thumb or a mountain peak when I saw something fat and yellow buzzing around my Eagles t-shirt. The moment the kids saw that huge bee, they screamed like they were in a horror movie and ran down the street. (Matt claiming that he swore it was a killer African bee did not help.) I ran after them and herded them back to the house before their parents realized they were gone.

I wish the game was as fun. The Eagles started well, but finally lost to the Saints, 48-22.

Work was fairly boring - steady, not too busy or quiet for a typical Sunday in September, with a lot of big orders and no major problems.