After resting up, Barry was off and running (around the house, that is). I can't keep him still. I knew it was worthless to try and fight it, so I got up, put some not-so-attractive clothing on and the day of work began. Isn't that contrary to what Sunday is all about? Not in Barry's world! We planted two shrubs in our front flower beds, Barry trimmed the yards edge with the weed eater. I patched two large cracks in our front walkway and now have a lovely farmers tan (or should I say, farmers BURN). Looking back at the day's accomplishments, I am very proud of what we did.
If you are thinking the day is over... think again. Barry has been craving Bratwurst and Sour kraut for weeks. He found a recipe that sounded wonderful and we cooked the best tasting Brats you could eat. Barry say's it is the German in me that makes the kraut so great. We had our German feast and retired for the evening. Barry fell asleep for about an hour, then his mom called. After their conversation was over, he watched TV with Brant and I for about 30 minutes, then decided it was time for a mile walk. UGH! Here I am, in bed, cozy as can be, and he wants to get up, get dressed and go for a walk. After protesting, I found it was a waste of words and asked Brant to go for the walk. When they returned, Brant said that he had trouble keeping up with Barry.
Calgon, take me away!
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