It is early. I am the only one up. Coffee and quiet, a calm moment at the beginning of this Sunday morning. It will be busy shortly.

I am getting lunch ready (frying hamburger for spaghetti), and tidying up a bit in case we have someone over after church. There is also a baby shower at 2:00. And the boys and I decided we would drive up to Calgary tomorrow to spend a few days with Mom and Dad, so will have to get ready for that as well.

Everyone survived the roof yesterday. Tyson has done a great job painting up there. There is still some to do, but he has made a big dent.

Lyndon took his bike for a ride yesterday afternoon, so we met him at the Snack Shack for ice cream. They have these yummy Saskatoon berry sundaes right now. While we were there, a man came in and ordered two large soft ice cream cones. Then he went out to the parking lot (holding his cones) and started visiting with someone in a truck. He stood outside, leaning on the truck door, with his cones balanced in one hand. We all watched carefully as the ice cream started to lean. I kept telling Lyndon he should go and tell the guy he was about to lose his treat, but Lyndon just said, If you’re going to buy ice cream you have to know what you’re doing. The boys were killing themselves laughing and waiting with anticipation to see what would happen. It was like watching an olympic event. There it goes. Oh. Oh. Look out! The guy finally looked, just in time. So funny.

Speaking of the Olympics, Canada has been winning some medals lately. I haven’t watched a lot, because watching requires trekking down to the TV in the basement, where there is only one chair (unless you count the weight bench), and where it smells, well, like a basement. Anyway, Lyndon was watching some yesterday. He was texting his friend in BC, who would text back with the times of certain events that they wanted to watch. Then Lyndon would head downstairs, and when it was really exciting, he’d call me and I’d run down to watch the good bits. We are very different “watchers”. He tends to get a little loud, and shouts stuff like, Come on, you’re at the Olympics for Pete’s sake. Get the lead out. I tend to be a little quieter, and maybe a little more encouraging, like, You can do it. Good job. Way to go. I always imagine that I am the parent of one of those kids. And I am always interested to see the parents they show in the crowds, to see if the mom is crying, or what they have printed on their tee shirts. And I love the hugs and stuff after the event is over. Anyway, yesterday I enjoyed seeing the woman wrestler from BC win Gold, and the kid who got third in the really long swimming race. They went on forever. I was very happy for him, though. He looked like he was about twelve years old.

Wonder how the Canadians are doing today.

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