We secured the packages from the airport—otherwise known as Grandpa and Grandma. They’re settling in nicely—I checked. Their suitcases and shoes are neatly stored on the newly purchased luggage racks. I’m all about providing a lovely guest room experience.
However, I fully embrace a solid zero-star rating in the wall decor department. The walls are as bare as a newborn baby’s bottom. Visitor comment cards will be accepted, but I make no promises about doing anything with them.
In my last batch of homemade bread, I upped the—
“I bought tickets for the fight, and a hockey game might break out,” Dave said with a laugh. Paula, Dad, and I laugh along. The Macon Mayhem, a minor league hockey team, is the next scheduled event. But since it’s still two nights away, I’ll be relishing the downtime with yard work, home-cooked meals, and good conversation.
Dad, never one to miss a chance for ice cream, added, “How about we put a peach ice cream cone on the list?” He’s got a point. That peach ice cream down the road at the cutest peach-processing plant—complete with rocking chairs and thirty ceiling fans—is worth the trip. Aka, Dickey’s.
It’s late. No one’s going to bed. And typing while talking is impossible. So, for that reason, I’ll see you tomorrow.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 