But for the sake of a key...

So today was our first day to man the Timm Services booth at the White county fair. To say the nine+ hours under the big top was anticlimactic understates things. Our expectations, which is to say out hopes, of landing a few big fish at the fair were pretty low, and in retrospect, we'll have to lower them a good bit. And that's fine. I'll enjoy the time to visit with Steve the septic man and Richard the preacher man and Marty the security man. The National Guardsmen next door are always good for a few laughs as well. Eavesdropping on their witty repartee leaves me little doubt as to why my brother-in-law (military company commander) has a difficult job. Those folks...men and women both...might possibly have come from the shallow end of the gene pool. God bless our men and women in uniform, and I pray that they do their job well and make it home safely.

Valerie and the three youngest'uns made it down mid-afternoon, and they rolled out around 7:45 or so. It's about 40 minutes from home to the fairground. Septic Steve left at about 8:15, so I waved the white flag shortly thereafter. About 8:30 I remembered where the keys to the Yamaha were...in the front pocket of the backpack cooler, which was in the van, which was probably in our driveway, Valerie and the kids just having completed the drive. Yikes.

The silver lining was that I had remembered to take my cell phone out of the van before the initial departure, so getting the key back down to me was a matter of a quick phone call, and an additional 40 minutes of driving for Valerie and the three youngest'uns. Of course, Braden is almost 17 months old, so he just loves going for drives wherein he has the opportunity to sit strapped into his racing seat for a good long while, sans the opportunity to throw balls or swing bats. Those are his two great loves.

It was a delightful ride home, cool and clear, not a deer in sight. And the White county fair has good breaded tenderloins.

Hustle, make the play, be the hero.