Jack and I flew out of the Provo airport for the first time this morning. (Roger has actually already flown out of the Provo airport; he took some flying lessons many years ago.) We flew through Denver to Milwaukee and, after stopping at a bait vending machine for three dozen earthworms, got to the lake shortly after 4:00. The thermometer in the car read 100 degrees.
Jack immediately changed into his swimsuit and headed down to the pier to do some fishing. I got back into the car and headed to the grocery store.
"Why would you want to do that before swimming?" he asked.
"Because once I'm in my swimsuit, I want to be in my swimsuit for the rest of the day," I said.
The fridge and cupboards are now full enough to last us at least a few days. And we swam until dark.
When I was growing up, my Grandma Jan was the one who kept the kitchen stocked. She always made sure we had good things to eat, like sweet crullers for breakfast and Jay's potato chips for lunch and big chocolate chip cookies from the bakery. The problem was that almost the entire time we were visiting, she'd beg us not to eat. We were usually a pretty big crowd and we worked up a pretty big appetite outside in the fresh air all day. I guess she was tired of going shopping all the time to keep up with us.
Then a day or two before we left, she'd start begging us to eat. "You can't leave me with all this food!"
Ah, Grandma.
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