Monday, as usual, followed Sunday this week.
What a beautiful day Sunday turned out to be: cloudless blue skies, low humidity. Perhaps it would be better than the disappointment from Saturday's Gamecock Football Game. But Sunday had to be, after all, it was Katie's tenth birthday. We came home from church with an extra kid in tow, a friend for the day's main activity: horseback riding. Following a quick lunch at the BK Lounge, cake and ice cream, I pointed the car to Suffolk and the Mulholland Ranch. Once we got the horses saddled and warmed up, Miss Connie took us out for a trail ride. Katie was on her favorite horse, Red Dog, and I followed on Cha Chi. At one point in the woods, Katie was holding the reigns in her right hand, left hand free at her side, and she was singing. Joy. Back at our house, I crashed, but Katie cried: she was already missing Red Dog.
Monday.
Back to the usual nine to five. The day before seemed almost surreal: so different from what I was doing now that it seemed like a dream. My boss asked me if I wanted to go have lunch at the Swan Terrace and interview a new candidate that we hope will come work for us. Previous times that I have been there it had been busy, but not today. After a while, I notice a cop walk in, look about and then exits. Interesting. Then, Pat Robertson enters and heads straight to the buffet. My initial impression is that Pat looks much older in person than on TV. My next impression, after eating a shrimp directly from the buffet and putting the empty tail back down, is equally impressive.
What a beautiful day Sunday turned out to be: cloudless blue skies, low humidity. Perhaps it would be better than the disappointment from Saturday's Gamecock Football Game. But Sunday had to be, after all, it was Katie's tenth birthday. We came home from church with an extra kid in tow, a friend for the day's main activity: horseback riding. Following a quick lunch at the BK Lounge, cake and ice cream, I pointed the car to Suffolk and the Mulholland Ranch. Once we got the horses saddled and warmed up, Miss Connie took us out for a trail ride. Katie was on her favorite horse, Red Dog, and I followed on Cha Chi. At one point in the woods, Katie was holding the reigns in her right hand, left hand free at her side, and she was singing. Joy. Back at our house, I crashed, but Katie cried: she was already missing Red Dog.
Monday.
Back to the usual nine to five. The day before seemed almost surreal: so different from what I was doing now that it seemed like a dream. My boss asked me if I wanted to go have lunch at the Swan Terrace and interview a new candidate that we hope will come work for us. Previous times that I have been there it had been busy, but not today. After a while, I notice a cop walk in, look about and then exits. Interesting. Then, Pat Robertson enters and heads straight to the buffet. My initial impression is that Pat looks much older in person than on TV. My next impression, after eating a shrimp directly from the buffet and putting the empty tail back down, is equally impressive.
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3 comments:
Eeww.
On the Robertson thingy, not the horseback riding.
Happy birthday to your daughter. Sounds like a wonderful day--what a cool birthday!
The older I get I find that my birthday wishes are getting simpler. Last year I just asked for a nap...
Gack! I'm glad I've never set foot in the place.
Good for you getting on a horse for your daughter.
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