Clay's intention in coming up yesterday was to work a little more on the trim-painting project begun some time back. Circumstances, including a slow-moving logging truck on the mountain roads, delayed his arrival until well into the afternoon. For me, that was a happy twist of fate. Having raced through barn chores, there was time to cross off a few more items on The List in the house and to rummage through the freezer to find something to feed "the Good Son." Too late to begin painting, we had a chance to talk and play catch-up; worth more to me than any work that might have been accomplished. It was a NASCAR Saturday race, so we watched that together, and later Clay got as big a kick as I had out of a segment of a three-part documentary, "Penguins: Spy." It really was laugh-out-loud funny. Even a thrown-together dinner tastes better when shared, and then it was time for Clay to head for home, rumbling away slowly to avoid the ruts and potholes in the driveway. I can follow the sound of a Harley all the way out to Mt. Aukum Road, about three miles, and then breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that the rider has dodged deer and the numerous et ceteras that are the nighttime perils up here.
It was a good day.