The rolling weed-whacker had been giving Pete fits from the git-go, starting or not, running or not, seemingly possessed by some perverse gremlin. Some machines are just like that. I'd been telling him to just leave it be, he and Jake had done enough the day before, but it's hard to get a grown man to mind when a task has become a challenge. While I milked, I could hear the whacker running for a bit, and then silence. It wasn't until a small piece broke in front of his eyes that Pete finally threw in the towel and could leave the field of battle with honor. (Did I say that competitiveness is a strong family trait?) That meant we could honestly take the rest of the day off without guilt.
I'd recorded the first two episodes of "The Newsroom," a series that just began and that I wanted the boys to see. The theme is integrity in the media (or lack thereof) and the need for an informed electorate. It's a subject that Pete and I have discussed, and Jake is old enough to vote this year and needs to start questioning his sources. Unless it's a race day, I don't usually push television on my guests, but we had the day off and had time for a little TV before moving on to the main event back at the card table.
I took a break to make some tartlets filled with caramelized onions, topped with a mixture of homemade goat cheese, egg, and fresh thyme and baked, to be eaten while still warm. The cook took the rest of the day off, too. With enough leftovers in the fridge to feed Cox's army, it was a fend-for-yourself night for dinner.
Calling it quits at eleven last night, I slunk off to bed, a disappointed loser. Dang, I hate when that happens!
It was a good day, even so.