I had another little bah humbug rant percolating today but after I heard about the latest adventure in Marci’s always exciting life, I decided she had me beat. So I’ll write about my serendipitously wonderful Tuesday instead.

Sam the Archaeologist and I have both spent quite a bit of time with octogenarians in the last year or so. And that’s not a bad thing, so don’t any of you tough, old octo-women get your underwear in a bunch! You know who you are! What it has meant though is that we have learned to keep any plans for getting together pretty loose because a couple of times unexpected events have caused us to have to cancel. Since she lives in Atlanta, it’s hard enough from the get-go for us to get together frequently.

And then there are days like yesterday. The plan was that I would pick Sam up at Metro and drive her up to her parents’ house near Lansing. And guess what? It all worked out even more than perfectly, despite a bit of bumbling at the airport by your favorite blahgger. The weather was great — clear, sunny, and warm. The traffic was tolerable for the most part and even though we were talking a mile a minute the whole time, I did *not* miss any exits! Like I have been known to do in a similar situation, oh back in about June.

A little bit of shopping at Meridian Mall, lunch at Panera, a visit with her parents. It was all good. But what put the whole day absolutely over the edge was an hour-long ramble on the conservation easement across the street. Woods and ponds and fields and hills and a graveyard of slowly disintegrating farm equipment from the days when horsepower meant four legs. I spotted potential forts at every turn and an archaeological site to boot. I reluctantly took my leave in the mid-afternoon and rolled home on the back highways under a brilliant, low-slung, winter solstice sun. A day I will always remember.

(Oh, and Froog? What under the *sun* were you looking at when I got home yesterday afternoon?)

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