Good morning, everybody! Happy Friday. I’m grateful to be here, and I couldn’t be happier to head into a weekend. By us in Madison it’s supposed to get up to eighty degrees today. Being a bigger fan of fall weather, I have mixed feelings about that. After weeks of perfect hoodie weather, it felt weird to throw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt again. But nevertheless, we’re going to just treat today like it’s summer. After work, we’ll hang out outside, walk to the biergarten, and enjoy a picnic by the lake.
Last night, Marissa and I huddled around the computer to throw together a grocery list.
“How about, like, turkey club sandwiches. Maybe some crispy bacon and pickles?” I suggested as the computer mouse skidded around the Woodman’s website.
“Oh that’s good,” said Marissa. “Can we get some fruit too? Some pineapple, and cantaloupe?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Pineapple… cantaloupe… and what else.”
“And you already checked to see if they have pick-up times for tomorrow?” asked Marissa.
I furrowed my brow, leaning forward to check another tab. “Shoot!” I exclaimed. “Nothing. No slots available for tomorrow.”
Marissa groaned. “We’ve been Woodman’s’ed again.”
To be Woodman’s’ed is our invented word that describes how it feels to make plans around having specific food in the house, and subsequently watch those plans implode. Trying a new recipe with pork? Woodman’s was out of pork, as well as all four of the backups you selected. Looking forward to bringing sandwiches to the biergarten for a quaint Friday afternoon picnic after work? Next available pickup is Saturday afternoon.
I sighed and closed the browser window. “Well,” I said, getting up out of my chair. “Let’s see what kind of picnic we can manage with what we got.”
Marissa and I stared blankly into the fridge. “We still have some cheese, so we can just do grilled cheeses,” I suggested. “And we can cut up those bell peppers.”
“There’s not a lot of bell peppers left,” said Marissa. “Can I add them to something with corn, beans, and onions? Like a salsa?”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “And then we’ll just pad things with goldfish crackers - always a solid plan.”
“I hate it when we get Woodman’s’ed,” said Marissa. “I wonder if they’re just busier because of all the new COVID cases in Wisconsin.”
I try not to follow the COVID news as obsessively as I did this past summer. At a certain point, the only thing it was accomplishing was making me more anxious. We already never go anywhere. I haven’t set foot in a real grocery store in months, let alone a real building that wasn’t my house. But still, the last time I saw a map charting the spread in the US, Wisconsin was bright red, like an infected sore. We know things are bad right now, and I don’t need to know the specifics.
Sip. All things considered, we had a great day yesterday. Yesterday, as Marissa and I commiserate about tired we were, I held on for dear life knowing that we had a football game to look forward to.
After finishing out the work day, I joined Rodney outside. He talked me into a round of random backyard sports. We played baseball, basketball, and finally a game that he just referred to as regular ball.
Marissa returned from her afternoon jog. With Miles on my lap, we sat together on the back porch and snapped some pictures.
“Of course, I can’t get one where you’re all smiling,” laughed Marissa. Photographing two squirming boys on my lap was like an unsolvable math problem. Either Miles was looking away with his hands in his moth, or Rodney was making a silly face.
Marissa ordered a pizza, and at last, we made our way to the couch to enjoy the game. We sent Rodney to bed after the first half.
“Can I keep watching the Bears game?” asked Rodney.
“No, dude, it’s time for bed,” said Marissa.
“We’ll let you know what happens,” I added. “Plus, this is the part of the game where I just nervously clean the house, anyway.”
“It’s true,” laughed Marissa. “OK, say goodnight to dad, then go upstairs and put your jammies on.”
We relocated to the dining room. Between commercial breaks, I cleaned our fridge, stove, and microwave. In the end, the Bears were finally able to fire things up and snatch a close victory.
“A commanding 1 point victory,” joked my dad in our family’s chat.
Since I’m a newer football fan, last night’s game was the first time I’ve seen Tom Brady play. His final drive was a weird one. Just needing to get within field goal range, the Bears’ defense shut him down. But apparently he lost track of what down it was and tried to stay on the field longer. The last shot of the game was a confused Tom Brady holding up four fingers to the refs, then quickly jogging to the locker room out of embarrassment.
It was a fun game. I went into it with low expectations, hoping for once to just not be embarrassed during a prime time game. But for the first time all season, our defense was fun to watch, and our offense looked pretty decent. And for the first time in his career, Tom Brady lost against the Chicago Bears. “The bears just need an average quarterback to be a good team,” a mantra commonly passed around on Bears twitter, may have been proven correct last night.
Have we had enough football talk in this journal entry? Probably. When I discover a new interest, I tend to go overboard in talking about it.
So that’s what I got today. I’ll see you all sometime Saturday afternoon. Tomorrow, the priorities are as follows: (1) brunch, (2) a journal entry, and (3) hanging out in the studio with Marissa while she waits around for her virtual art show.
Speaking of which, final plug before we part ways. Check out Marissa’s virtual art show this Saturday and Sunday. For more information, just click on the “Events” tab on her website, astuaryart.com. Hope to see you there.
Thanks for stopping by today. Have a great Friday, everyone.