Bella Makes The Blog. So Sad That Papi Butch Didn't Bring Her Sunday Apple Fritters to Pine Grove Road

So Sad. No Fritter Today

Cynderballz sent me this Sunday message from her dog, Bella, when my father didn't show up with his ritual weekend Apple Fritters from Price Chopper. Casey's kids were under watch by the Amalfi parental units, so I suppose the grandparents got distracted.

Today is clean up day for Abu, Lossine and me, as we will try to find my desk underneath all the crazy supplies that took over my office this summer. I told them they can sleep in to when their bodies wake them up and then we'll head in.

I spent yesterday basking in the silence, finishing teacher stuff from the institute, getting groceries for the week, and prepping for the posse to return from the Yankees game. In one swoop, half of the groceries disappeared, as Sunday night took on festival mode with Pam, Patrick, Derrick, Katelyn, and the boys: cheeseburgers, beans, corn, salad, and mozzarella sticks.

I did find time to watch Spain and France play in Men's Volleyball and wish I had an opportunity to play at such a level (ha ha, as if). I am also thankful that I'm not that gymnast who bent his leg upon a landing...OUCH. Given that it has been almost a year since the great pinky break, 2015, I can feel for that man's pain. Ah, but it was his leg.

Yankees won upsetting Cleveland's winning streak and I wish I caught the part when Abu and Chitunga were put on the fan cam. That would have been awesome.

It seems strange to know that 100 people will not be awaiting me at Fairfield University this morning, but all will be good. I need the mental space.