How is it already so close to midnight? For a day that started out rough, with an upset stomach and no will to survive, it ended with a smooth finish like a really nice liqueur. I just put on my favorite album of all time, the one that makes my entire body relax like nothing else can, not even prescription painkillers, and I'm letting this terrific day slip away into a holiday weekend. Thanks for the memories, November 25th.
I had forgotten one of our favorite words. When we were kids (that means in our twenties), we had a term for things that Mr S-P created, constructed, designed, or rigged to work: "Glengineering." It was meant to tease, as we always communicated at a third-grade level back then, but over the years, it turned out those things that were Glengineered were actually quite solid and functional. Today we spent hours in the garage, working on a project that showed to us just how far his skills have progressed. I will be intentionally vague, lest the self-appointed Safety Officer of our family get on our case about what we did, but suffice it to say that I was impressed by Mr Man's ingenuity. And it was halfway through the strenuous, and possibly dangerous process that I remembered how Glengineering used to be an insult. Not so much anymore.
Yesterday while we were at dinner, celebrating my victory over the test, I checked the college basketball schedule, and learned that our alma mater was playing a home game tonight. I suggested getting tickets, but put it out of my mind completely by the time we left the restaurant. This morning, the man took my hand, flipped it palm side up, and dropped two tickets to the basketball game into it. I was all prepared to give him full credit, when he confessed that our neighbor, who went to CSU rather than CU, had them and didn't want to go, and gave them up to us. I was still thrilled that the man said yes, he'd give up an evening when he could be tinkering in the garage to go watch sports with me. It wasn't too much of a hardship, since basketball games are short and it's one of the sports our Buffs were likely to win. Also, Mr S-P's brother was there with his entire family, so we had a chance to chat and catch up before the big dinner tomorrow. It was an alumni band night too, but apparently the invitation to that only went out to recent members of the basketball pep band. Oh well. I had things I needed to do this week besides blow my lips out playing piccolo again. Also, the Buffs won. So there's that.
It was misting when we left, not quite rain, not quite ice, not quite snow. We drove through Boulder, finding loads of places where Christmas lights are already up. The big star on the Flatirons is already lit, trees in Central Park downtown were wrapped in lights (and we wandered through for pictures), the Pearl Street Mall was fully decorated, big lights colored the Courthouse, and trees all over town were covered in fairy lights. I smiled and giggled like a child, while Mr S-P swore dozens of baby reindeer died horrible deaths every time someone put up lights before it was even Thanksgiving. He can be grumpy all he wants. I'm finally back in a cold weather state where people get serious about lights, putting them up in November and leaving them on through early January (I'm guessing through Epiphany?). It was odd to me, that living down in the Bible Belt, very few people decorated the outside of their homes for Christmas, and the lights were off by the evening of the 25th. I keep telling the Man, Sunday after Thanksgiving is my day. I want a tree and the first preliminary lights up by then. And this year, there will be plenty of snow on the ground to get me in the mood. Fa-la-la!
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