Month: June 2017

I spent a lot of time in the backyard today, all the bushes along the fence and house were getting out of hand. I felt like I actually did some work!

Memory: Bringing you dinner to the office and eating with you.

Memory: Driving through the rain to Help Portrait this past December. 

I posted a rare politically themed picture to Instagram today. I’m embarrassed by our government and our media. I’d be willing to be you are too.

Memory: Your custom of bringing magnets to me from your travels. Something I appreciated more than I admitted.

I injured my foot last week which has been annoying. That whole walking thing we have to do. 🙂 Tonight I’m going to a “Fetography” meeting which should be interesting.

Memory: Helping me install the tow rig on the trailer in the August heat.

Had dinner with Jennifer (you met her once at Tutta’s) before drum class tonight. I hadn’t seen her in awhile and it was good to catch up.

Memory: Our addiction to Thai and you introducing me to Panang.

Memory: Sitting with you during the police shooting due to pure coincidence and hearing you say you were happy I was there. Being glad I could be there.

Rain, yard work and a nap was the modus operandi of the day. I have come to understand your love of Sunday naps.

Memory: Every picture from every work and non-work trip you sent me.

Today was nice. We went to the Arboretum for a “fantasy character shoot” with many people from the cospay/ren groups. The rest of the day was spent napping and then a party tonight.

Memory: The engagement shoot with you and your friends at the Arboretum and Whiterock Lake.

Today is my mom’s birthday. She is seventy-five. She’s been a constant in my life and I think of her a little bit like she is “immortal”. I know that isn’t the case and losing her scares me to death.

Memory: Rainstorms in your loft.

I looked at the date this morning and realized it’s June. Less than a month until the 20th. I have doubts you’ll show up to my invite or even reply if I reach out as you told to do this past winter. I also have hope. Either way, it will be a new chapter in our friendship or closure. I hope it is the former.

Memory: The sound of your laughter.