just like Loverboy used to sing

My husband is working four ten-hour days during the summer weeks (which will likely end in the fall, when I teach classes at the college two nights a week) so now, Thursday night, our weekend is suddenly upon us. The depressed / anxious / stressed persona of my spouse the last week or so has lifted this evening, and I’m not sure why.  It could be the end of the work week; it could be the effort I put into our chickens and their coop yesterday (which Ralph had felt was being neglected).  It could be rehearsal with his band today preceded by dinner of filet de beouf poele with sauteed mushrooms, glazed carrots, sliced orange tomato – and no dinner cleanup. It could be all the hard work he put into making t-shirts, CDs and CD cases – with a fair bit of help from a very talented friend – resulting in a tidy little pile of merchandise that he will distribute in the most awesome Creative Commons methodology that is his hallmark (can you tell on some levels I really l ike the guy?).

Regardless, I am happy to have him back to being a bit more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Tomorrow we are sojourning out to Helsing Farm’s sleepover and music festival for a bit of sun, river play, great food, and music. Saturday heralds The Redbird Fever’s first show at an HQX bar called Stiffy’s; I’m not sure if I’m going (it’s 21-and-over and I haven’t sussed out somewhere for the kids to be).

Tonight: collapse into bed with a good B-movie and some rather sleepy kids.

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