This past Saturday I got myself semi-dolled up (jeans and a nice sweater) and drove to a distant Pittsburgh suburb to have lunch with the MIL, SIL's and various members of the MIL's extended family. It is called the “Cousin's Lunch” and it is a women-only gathering held four times a year.
I don't go very often, as I feel like a visitor in a foreign country, one that can never quite get the customs right and lapses into silence and pointing less she inadvertently offend her kind hosts. My latest journey was no exception, as the primary topics of discussion were priests, mass schedules and church youth groups, with a brief foray in the hazard of hosting an outdoor birthday party for a teenager.
Late Sunday afternoon, J commented on how it had not felt like much of a weekend, as he spent all day Saturday hanging drywall with a friend. He reluctantly retracted that statement when I pointed out to him that he probably had a better time hanging drywall then I did at lunch.
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