My daughter and niece and their boyfriends came over for dinner yesterday, and saved my Sunday. It was one of those beautiful sunny days, no humidity, mocking me for not being outside. I was trying to decide whether to go to the Pride parade, the Pride festival, or to just walk the High Line. The man didn't want to move from his spot in front of the TV watching the America's Cup race between the United States's Oracle and the Kiwis foot-pedaled catamaran marvel. It was indeed a fascinating display of sailboat technology, with hydrofoils skating the surface of a turquoise sea. I do enjoy seeing my man get excited about that yachty stuff; he grew up on an island, dreaming of boats. Still, back on land inside our apartment I was climbing the walls (I'm pecking this out on my cell and can't be bothered to think past cliches). I eventually settled myself down, and appeared perfectly normal for the rest of the evening. This is a whole new stage of life with the kids all moved out. I'm still finding the corners.
My friend is done with her visit. We're going to lunch. Later.