I did not spend the weekend fishing for tuna

I’m sitting here on the couch and P has on a fishing show called Wicked Tuna because he obviously doesn’t appreciate that it’s the season finale of Downton Abbey tonight. And what’ more important? Whether a group of men reel in a giant tuna or if the Dowager Countess runs off the Russian prince?

I think we know my answer to that question.

And this weekend has been such a blur that I just asked Caroline what we did this weekend. She said, “Remember? Gulley and the boys came over? And we ate dinner and then stayed in our pajamas all day yesterday?”

Yep. That about sums it up.

Thanks for reading.

On Friday I was just thankful that my cough was finally down to manageable levels and I was beginning to feel better and that Caroline had made it through an entire week of school without an illness. So we celebrated by having Gulley and the boys come over for dinner and to hang out. P was at the ranch because it was, HALLELUJAH, the last weekend of hunting season and Gulley’s husband was at the rodeo.

The weather was cold and rainy and so we opted to just hang out at my house. I made homemade mac and cheese for our dinner with brownies for dessert. Basically, the perfect meal if you completely disregard the food pyramid and all nutritional experts. Gulley and I also had wine but I read recently that a glass of red wine is the health equivalent of spending an hour at the gym and so we’re just doing our part to ensure our cardiovascular health.

Sadly, I was up with Piper and Mabel by 7:00 on Saturday morning because Mabel lives by the old adage of “early to bed, early to rise, makes a dog healthy, wealthy and wise”. But because it was cold and rainy, they had no interest in actually going outside for any amount of time and we spent most of the morning curled up together while I enjoyed my coffee and watching some old episodes of Friday Night Lights. True story: I cry every time the Panthers win state at the end of the first season and I’ve seen it approximately 463 times.

Around 11:00 a.m. I began to feel concerned that Caroline wasn’t awake yet, but felt I should let her sleep because she’s been so sick and tired recently, when all of a sudden my phone rang and it was her calling me from the bedroom asking if I could bring her something to eat for breakfast. Apparently she’d been up for a while but quite content to stay under the covers and read. This is proof that she possesses at least 50% of my DNA. P would never stay under the covers and read all morning. By 11:00 a.m. most days he has already completed enough things to comprise the to-do lists of eighteen normal people.

But it was the perfect day for it because it remained gray, rainy and cold (Yes, I mean 40 degrees for those of you who think that’s bathing suit weather. My native Texan self salutes you and your fortitude.) We basically did nothing most of the day except read and watch T.V. and try to manage the amount of mud the puppies brought into the house every time they went out to go to the bathroom and give a couple of gratuitous barks at some squirrels trying to nest in the eaves of our roof.

At 5:45, Mimi and Bops came and picked us up to go eat Italian food and it was nice to get out of the house for a little bit. Our strategy was to get to the restaurant early enough to beat the crowd but we still had a twenty minute wait because I guess when it’s a cold, dreary day everyone decides the best thing to do is eat, preferably pizza and pasta.

Caroline and I got back home and immediately returned to our pajamas. And then P finally got home a little before midnight and unloaded all the food and clothes he’s kept at the ranch for the last four months. It was like Cabela’s and HEB threw up in my kitchen and he spent most of the day today washing and sorting through all manner of camo clothing and accessories and trying to get it all organized for next year.

Meanwhile, Caroline had some friends over and I made chocolate chip cookies and listened to screaming and singing and dancing at untold decibel and energy levels. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Except for maybe all the purple feathers that I found all over the house from a feather boa that tends to shed when worn by five or six energetic girls in constant motion.

And now P and I are sitting by the fire and I have discovered that a good tuna can bring in as much as $10,000. Which makes me think that might be a more productive way to spend your weekend than staying in your pajamas and eating mac and cheese.

But not nearly as relaxing.