Today is shaping up to be a two steps forward, one back day. First, I slept in after our ultra-busy weekend, which pushed everything back so I wasn’t ready for the day until later than usual. Then before I could get to work, I had to go to the grocery store since my cupboards were a dead ringer for Mother Hubbard’s. I made my to do list and attacked my email inbox once the groceries were stowed. For an hour, I made steady progress until a friend stopped for an unexpected, urgent conversation. After she left it was time for lunch, which my stomach said was the most important meal of the day. Of course, I listened to its advice.
Now it’s 2:00, the inbox is finally cleared out, and I can write. But after a weekend packed with fun, what do I write about? If I try to mention everything – the son’s birthday, the relative’s graduation, the trip to the cemetery to decorate graves, the quality time with extended family, and meeting our daughter’s boyfriend – I will get behinder and behinder.
So here’s the deal. Because the foot picture is so cool and it fits with the title of today’s blog, I’ll briefly mention the Sunday afternoon game of barefoot kickball in my cousin’s back yard. It was a classic clash – the Old F**ts vs. the Young F**ts. By the end of the game, I’d taken 100+ photos of the action (much safer than actually participating), every foot was stinging and rosy red from kicking the ball all over the neighborhood, and the Old F**ts had beat the young ones quite convincingly.
Best of all, another wonderful afternoon was deposited in our memory banks. Another bond was forged from my parents’ generation to mine and on to our children who will carry it into the adulthoods they are beginning.
If you ask me, that’s three feet forward and none back. I like the sound of that.
