Let sleeping dogs lie in their own beds
Just to show that I do pay a minimum of attention, the Habs won again this evening. Means little, other than to affirm that they aren’t “done”, yet. Many people with an investment in jerseys and tiny flags that mount on the car windows can sleep soundly this evening.
We had a family evening, with the chance to meet one of my two grand-nieces. Not here, in box haven; in a proper hotel room, with a large number of people clustered in the open area in front of the TV (which is why I know how the hockey game played out). Babies, at close to six months in life experience, don’t talk much. A lot of grinning, and chewing on any object that might offer gum resistance. And by the time we gather again, she’ll have mastered all sorts of other life skills (walking, for example).
Given that two of the three sons were in the meeting, I had a chance to catch up on their lives, as well. They’re much busier than me; son #1 put in 70 hours in the last week, which I would not want to face. I remember some of my longer work stints, but not with nostalgia or fondness.
No second dog in the house tonight, and the sound level has returned to usual levels. I also won’t have to share my side of the bed, taking great care not to roll over without (at least) giving a warning nudge beforehand. Let sleeping dogs lie, in their own beds.
