Weekends take on a different spin depending where I am, who I’m with and what I’m doing.  Although this wasn’t a lake weekend, I was entertained with a diverse agenda which kept me busy.  As always, lots of cooking, cleaning and planning, but to me, that is therapeutic and something I enjoy. 

A surprise 80th birthday party isn’t something I would normally look forward to.  After all, the thought of being surrounded by old folk that strain to hear you and still don’t, can’t grasp anything by today’s standards and argue about how it was done back in the day, then order you to get them this or that by tapping your arm and pulling you in, only to have them lose track of what it is they want and go right into a story that is never-ending with no escape, is not something I would willingly attend if I didn’t have too.  However, this party was for my favorite uncle who substitutes as my father and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.  My cousin hosted the party at his house and I knew it would be a blast.  A 6′ round fire pit in the back yard lured the close cousins outside for most of the party.  After ribbing my cousin on the amateur fire, my brother doused it with lighter fluid and in seconds we had a blazer going.  We sat around eating, drinking, laughing and telling stories.  I was particularly thrilled to see my son and his girl laughing uncontrollably at stories of our youth.  Cousins came out of the woodwork that I haven’t seen in years.  It was so good to catch up and crack up.  My brother was hilarious as usual and the laughs just kept coming.  One of the things that cracked us up the most is the fact that my uncle, in his old age, is now dropping the F-Bombs in every sentence.  Smoking like a chimney, he’s flinging butts everywhere with an F-Bomb behind them.  This is all new since my Aunt died two years ago, but cynically funny nonetheless.  I think he’s reliving his f’ing youth…  I asked him how he was doing and he answered “I’m doing f’ing great!”  In my horror I found myself cracking up.  It’s wrong and so damn funny.  Or as he would say; f’ing funny!

A 6 mile hike Sunday morning with Mark, J, and Lizzie gave way to some down time back at the house for the rest of the day.  Towards the end of the day, Lizzie and I were sitting on the deck talking.  Well, I talked and Lizzie pretended to listen.  I was still cracking up about Holty and the F-Bombs.

Happy F’ing 80th Birthday Holty!

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