You ever have one of those weekends that is so busy that Monday seems like a holiday?
Yup, I'm looking forward to sitting on my butt all day staring at a computer screen. No lifting heavy boats or outboard motors or canoes. No cleaning the house. No walking around the fair. No riding my bike up big hills. No writing another 1,100 words on my novel. No laundry, no dishes, no grocery shopping .... you get the picture.
It was a great weekend, truly, and the weather was spectacular here.
We were out for a bike ride along the riverbank and we came up to this old church or schoolhouse that is now someone's home, and it is the most adorable place you could imagine living in: bell still intact, brown wood siding, original windows, shiny red tin roof, gorgeous gardens, all overlooking the river. So we came up to this special little house, a house hobbits might live in, and there, transcendent in the sunshine, was a sugar maple with its ruby red autumn coat, waving slightly in the breeze, with the red roof of the schoolhouse as a brilliant backdrop. My breath actually caught in my throat for a moment and I thought, I love this time of year.
Later, Dave and Sam and I were sucking back a cold pop after our ride and we were talking about all the reasons we love fall: pumpkin pie, crisp fresh air, no blackflies or mosquitoes, and fabulous scenery. Sam says, "I've got one more reason."
"Fall is when the best video games come out."
How could I possibly forget that?
*shaking my head*
For his birthday Sam's father pre-ordered the new Gears of War 3 videogame. Sam's been counting down the days until it's delivered – I guess the game's website has a countdown that measures the Big Event in minutes and even seconds. All weekend long Sam was bouncing off the walls about Gears of War because TODAY IS THE BIG DAY.
It's like Christmas around here, only I didn't have to cook a turkey or wrap any presents. The other night Sam got up in the middle of the night and started to microwave milk for himself – obviously so excited about the game that he couldn't sleep. I fixed his milk for him and sent him back to bed, only to hear him get up a half an hour later. Dave got up to see what he was doing and he was just standing in the middle of the living room, in the dark, in his underwear, just standing there. Dave, being the loving, doting stepfather that he is, said something gentle like, "What in HELL are you doing? Get your ass back to bed!"
And so the weekend went.
Thank god it's Monday.