I showed up at Able printing with a box of ice cream cones. I should have brought Kleenex; tears poured down Connie's cheeks. The computer was acting up. If not the computer, something else. The weight of running your own business is heavy. I stayed for a couple of hours, folding brochures and engaging in conversation. Later I received a text message from Connie's husband Wayne: "Connie said when a person is having bad day they should have ice cream!! Thanks again." I'm glad I didn't bring tissues.
My father-in-law grilled steaks for us Thursday night. Corn, salad, and potatoes complemented the meal. As we prepared to sit for our feast, Liz moved to help her mother. Marcy's legs were rather weak. Half way across the room, her legs became heavy. Mel rushed over to lend another hand. Marcy continued to slip to the floor. Her body was laden, drooping. Liz suddenly burst out laughing. Mel chuckled, too. If you cannot laugh about it, you might cry.
My arthritic cat, Zelda, who fights seizures all day and prowls the neighborhood all night, caught a blue jay. She killed the blue jay. Not inconsequential is the fact that Zelda does not have front claws. My wife and daughters dined on our back porch as the scene unfolded. Then our triumphant cat presented her bounty to the family. Immediately, an army of blue jays screamed from the tree in our backyard. Their war cries resounded for days. Who knew birds could get so angry?