My wife and #3 daughter are off to St. Cloud today, combining a medical appointment with getting together with one of my wife's sisters and family.
That left me and our 11-year-old son here. My wife put him in charge of making lunch, with specific instructions.
He explained to me that he couldn't find the jelly, so was it okay to make a peanut butter and peanut butter sandwich?
I'm enjoying my pb and pb now: we'll see how the rest of the day goes.
The rest of the day went fine.
I saw - and heard - the mail come. Generally the mail carrier isn't that noisy, but today we nearly got him with a mound of ice.
Since my policy is to avoid maiming the people this household depends on, I went outside a little later, with what I call an ice pick: a sort of hoe-shaped blade at the end of a long handle.
Ten minutes of aerobic exercise in near-zero temperatures later, I had cracked off most of the mound. That thing was over an inch thick: probably an accumulation from the roof, on one of the recent warm days.
That's what it looked like, about half-way through today's process.
I put a sort of salt on what was left, and am hoping for the best. Maybe I'll get the rest of that hazard taken care of tomorrow.
My wife and #3 daughter came home before supper, as predicted. They found me taking a nap on the couch. Our son had gotten his chores done, and was doing something on the main computer.
Toward the end of today, our son and I read Garfield, as usual.