We had plans to have dinner with the Ks next door tonight. One set of parents was in town, and we enjoy spending time with them when they are here. This was the plan, arranged days ago. We were going to provide smoked meat, and they would have the sides.
Then the Mr got tagged to help build a deck for an old college friend down in Denver. And he added in a little solo flight time this morning. And when he got home from Denver, our kids called and asked for emergency help with their snapset pool. He managed to get the smoker going between flying and deck building, but he needed me and T to check it while he was gone. He was helping with the pool for hours, well past the time we were supposed to be next door. I had pulled the meat off of the grill before it turned into a brick and let it rest, thinking he would be back any minute. I ended up going next door alone at 8:30, and we were sitting down on the patio with our plates full, before he finally wandered in.
Despite the late start, dinner was great. The meat wasn't too overcooked (whew), the sides were terrific, and the conversation was lively and comfortable. We have known each other for six years now, since we moved into our houses on the same day. T's family feels like our own extended family at this point. We had no end of stories to tell of adventures together, but once dinner was over, out came the tales of danger and gore. T and I had to suddenly go inside and get ready to make root beer floats when the Mr was recounting helping run transport at the military medical facility in Iraq. That particular group of stories always makes me squirm, and T didn't take it any better than I did.
No pix today. I just didn't take any. All the imagery is with words for now.
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