I do a lot of crashing out on the couch in front of the fire or wherever since I started working full time again. Grok grok. You do that anyway, y’ ol’ bag. Grok grok Shut up, Froog! Never mind him. Now where was I? Oh yeah. As interesting as the job is, there is definitely a learning curve or two or ten going on and I am tired by the end of the day. If my body doesn’t feel fatigued, my brain clonks out. I knew I wouldn’t want to go out, even for dinner, on Friday night. I wanted to cook something at home and sit in front of the fire to eat it but I knew the GG wouldn’t be satisfied with that plan. I was pretty sure he’d want to walk downtown and eat somewhere and walk around. I just wasn’t up to that. But there also wasn’t any food in the house. At least not anything that could scrabble itself together into something I wanted to cook. So I got ahead of the game and proposed a compromise: “Why don’t we get a reservation at Knight’s, oh say for about 7:30 or so?” I figured I would get home around six and take a little walk and then we could walk over to Knight’s in time to hang out at the bar and drink one of Yul’s infamous manhattans (what? measure it? moi?) while we waited for our reservation to come up. We could stumble home after it was all over and I could fall asleep on the couch. I still wasn’t terribly excited about the whole thing but so what?

Then, sometime during the afternoon, my phone vibrated. It was Sam! The Archaeologist! It was then that I remembered Sam and jcb were gonna leave the great dry southern city of Hotlanta and head up here to the great white north to check on what her octos are getting up to these days! Er, I guess one of them is a nona now. It’s okay, he’s still out there cutting down big tree branches that are higher than his head with a cross-cut saw or whatever you call it. Anyway. Her parental units had their usual Friday evening news/political programs on the agenda and Sam was up for something a little more exciting, not that the Landfill often qualifies as terribly exciting these days. You know, I remember seeing Yasser Arafat’s hair on Sam’s parents’ TV like 30 years ago or so on a Friday night and Sam and I were definitely looking for something more interesting to do then too. Go figure.

So Sam and jcb headed down over this way from the Lansing area for the evening, surprising the unsuspecting GG out of his afternoon nap. Our original plans didn’t change all that much except for some whine and hilarity. Actually a whole lot more hilarity than would have probably occurred with just me and the GG. I don’t have much to say about it all but you can check it out in this cute little slideshow if you want. Whaddya mean, the photos are all fuzzy? That is ART, you guys. Er, or, maybe it’s just a typical Friday night at Knight’s with a few shots amid the clutter of the Landfill kitchen. Captions? Y’all expect me to write captions too? Y’all can write your own captions. Watch for Stormy Kromer hats and knock yourselves out! Grok grok grok. No Froggy, I didn’t mean you!

Note to self: find a ring-tone to assign to incoming calls from Sam. Maybe some old human toe-bones rattling together would fit the bill.

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