ahhhh. . .Friday night

Friday nights are special. I'm not sure where the idea originated but for me it may be because my parents let me date one night a week.

Friday nights are special. I'm not sure where the idea originated but for me it may be because my parents let me date one night a week. One date a week, AFTER I turned 16 and until I moved out of the house (even the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college). 


I guess I took the hint. I left college in my sophomore year and got married.

Friday nights signal the end of the quintessential work week. I don't have such a thing, being self-employed. Every minute seems to be filled with things to do, things to work toward, and things I wish I had time to do. 

Yet,with the arrival of every Friday night I anticipate something. Over the years I often felt disappointment and wished I had something exciting to look forward to. Something wonderful about getting older is that I seem to appreciate everything more and dwell less on what I don't have. 

So tonight was a great Friday night because:
  • I picked up my friend's 7 year old from school and enjoyed her rave about the special lunch they had as a reward--they got to stay in their classroom and watch a movie
  • I heard from my son who is too far away in Chicago--I miss him so much
  • I love to cook and made dinner for my friends, my own Krautqueen sauerkraut and brats
  • I talked to all 4 of my siblings, and am thankful they are all talking to me
  • I had 3 beers, good ones from Oregon
  • I put on clean "jammies" that smell of fabric softener
  • I have a new light bulb in the lamp by my bed and it casts a warm feeling on the room
  • I called an old friend to wish him happy birthday
  • I am writing this in bed with apples and caramel dip by my side
. . . . . . . . .and I had another rewarding day helping someone with their car seat. Every time I "touch" a car seat I am potentially saving a life and today's "life" was a tiny, 12 pound baby who is in a (pink!) cast from her armpits to her toes. She had to be fitted into a Hippo seat designed for special needs such as hers and it was my first effort; frustrating yet rewarding. Her mom speaks no English so an interpreter met me at her house. It took more than 3 hours but what an experience! 

What a great Friday night. Doesn't get much better than this. 

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