Keith reclined in his chair up in the loft, sipping his late Friday afternoon martini. “I was just flashing back to the year we spent weekends here.”
“That was one of my favorite times,” I said, dropping the mail beside his chair and joining his reminiscence.
“We’d leave mid-Friday afternoon and arrive after dark – sundown in summer,” Keith said. “I’d have my end-of-the-week martini.”
“And I’d pack dinner in the cooler, or we’d pick up something on the drive in.”
Picnics on folding tables and chairs. Outside and inside.
Although the winter seven years ago was not severe, there were a few Sundays we drove back to our home in Alexandria early to beat the snow. Keith was still working. Now our weekend and vacation house is both home and work place.
Yesterday at 6:45 am, an hour before we usually leave for church, freezing rain iced the deck and driveway. As predicted. A half hour later, one hundred percent chance of snow lay on top of the ice. Keith and I decided to stay home. Later, we received an email announcing the 11:00 service at church had been cancelled.
Our Sunday brunch was an open-the-refrigerator-and-whatever-falls-out meal: leftover Thai chicken and breakfast sausage from yesterday’s meals, corn bread and cheese grits from the day before, and salad. Tapas. After brunch, I cooked a big pot of chili for supper and Super Bowl watching.
Late afternoon rain melted most of the snow, but freezing temperatures overnight re-iced the deck and driveway.
Today, I work at my desk, enjoying the sunshine and flashing back. To predictions that came true or didn’t. To one hundred percent chances that materialized or didn’t. To summers that never ended until they did.
Picnics on folding tables and chairs. Outside and inside. My favorite times.
What are your favorite flashback times?
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