If today is Sunday, and it is, then my daughter and her husband should be in Dodge.
And, as I write this, I'm assuming that will be true.
If, on the other hand, you're hearing an intermittent, chilling wail, it's just me bemoaning the fact that for some reason they didn't make it. And I can whine with the best of them, especially if something I've wanted so badly turns out to be impossible.
Not even going there. They will be here. They will be here.
If I had little red shoes, I'd click the heels for sure and murmur the words. They will be here.
They better be here - I bought two large containers of shrimp. She loves shrimp. As a little kid, 5 or 6 years old, she loved shrimp and wanted to order it wherever we ate. Because that was often at fast-food sandwich shops, her shrimp order failed. But when she did get shrimp, she was a happy camper.
Until the fateful day - the day she found a shrimp that had not been deveined.
"What's this?" asks she.
"Well," says me, "that's the shrimp poop."
For years the child refused to eat shrimp. But she likes it again and I bought a bunch of it for her. We can eat it plain. We can eat it dunked in sauce. We can cook it and mix it with noodles and alfredo sauce. Or everybody else can stay away, and she can eat it all herself.
With five full days here, it seems as if there would be time to do a lot of stuff, but I'm betting I'll already be hugging her goodbye long before I'm ready to let go. Hugging her husband, too, but he's not as prone to let me hang on for an extended hug.
If we've got time, we might take a quick trip to Duncombe today to eat hot dogs and hamburgers with the guys at the Duncombe Volunteer Fire Department. They've got a new fire truck out there and are opening the station to the public to let everybody see what their donations helped buy.
The department has been holding fundraisers for years, said fire chief Daryl Hanson, so the new fire truck and all the new equipment - which includes firefighter gear for the 16 firefighters in the department - really belongs to the people of the Duncombe area. Just don't ask to borrow it. They need it available if they need it.
Fundraisers didn't do the whole job, though - they worked to get grants to pay for about half the final cost.
Anyway, if you're in the Duncombe area any time from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., stop at the fire house, which is a block or so south of The Pub, and get yourself a free dog or burger. Just don't try for the stuffed Dalmatian in the office. That dog's got to stay at the fire house. It's a fire engine dog and it doesn't eat a thing.
Of course, if there are any hot dogs left over, that little stuffed dog could sneak a late night snack.
That's what I might be doing with the shrimp.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Contact Sandy Mickelson at (515) 573-2141 or firstname.lastname@example.org