A long day. I feel successful. And tired. And grateful. Did I mention tired?

Dinner in a brightly lit Mexican restaurant followed by a good stroll, much of it hand in hand. The day is unwinding.

It’s too early to go home lest we disappoint the kids by sending a favorite sitter home before the late night dance party. We go to Frogg to visit friends and find a great jam band. “Duo” something from Asheville, NC. Music is good.

A friend buys a drink for me. I enjoy it standing up. Exhaustion creeps in even deeper. I take a seat at the table in front of me. The crowd is pretty neat.

A wedding party delivered in a First Baptist Church van. So funny to me. Some of them in USAF uniform. Even funnier to me. How many of them fly? None. We asked.

Many girls in red taffeta but not the same dress. Very classy, in my opinion. But we didn’t have a wedding party so what do I know?

Sorostitites from the local college (it’s not worthy of “university” status despite its name), thirty-somethings like me. Ok. Maybe only a few. Even a red neck and our favorite Butcher. He and I chat for a bit. He is beyond awesome. Even if he speaks Spanish and I only understand maybe about 20% of what he says. *cheers*

The band changes and the tempo of the crowd jumps as the mellow jam band to which I am drawn is momentarily replaced by a band covering a Sting song. Sting. Remember him? Good music.

Watching my Husband work the room in his shorts (yes, it’s 45F outside) and his heavy LL Bean flannel is my favorite sight. The only thing missing is His Birks. He went for the Sperrys.

What is it about full beards right now?

A couple of drinks later and my headache is creeping. But I keep watching. Watching our favorite waitresses, the Butcher, my Husband.

This is life.





I may be in a bar (and grill), but this is what Advent is about.