Weekend Begins

[The part of my brain which communicates immediately and thoroughly through the written word is broken. I want to tell you about my weekend. But...? Why is it so difficult to move beyond the garbled nonsense? You know, good writers begin with this crap, just to get their minds on the plain of the page, then erase it afterwards. Well, I believe I'll retain it somehow. There has to be a way to work in matters of such delicate transparency as the true beginning of a piece...]

I was excited for work to end on Friday, because my cousin, on leave from the navy, was coming to visit. And not only that, but Stephen and Megan, too. And if that were not enough, Sladana was in town to visit with BJ. They were on their way for dinner, as well. Oh! What fun times!

First in the kitchen, some heart-filled, informative conversation ("how have you been?" "it's been so long!").

Then, the party expanded to the dining room, with common ground, exclamation, and triumph ("I just finished that book!" "we're five months pregnant").

With the shining promise of renewed aunthood, we moved to the living room, where the party continued to expand ("is there a smily face on that snow-covered mountain?" "it's a tattoo").

Houses may be a convenient place to keep the things of life; a good place to sleep. But probably the primary purpose of a residence is to laugh with people you love.