Every December, the place where Emil lives and works throws a Christmas party with supper and a dance. It’s a main event for the clients, and parents and other family members are usually invited. Scott and I have never attended, though, because Emil didn’t want us there. I guess we cramped his style? We weren’t offended. When he still lived at home and was only part-time at his current employment, it gave us the opportunity to go out for supper, just the two of us on a date, after driving him into town.
This year the company CEO invited families when he sent out a report by mail, so I decided to go. That’s where we’re off to in an hour, a rare night out for two people who are content to stay home and relax most evenings. There will be a catered meal and the local Dixielanders band will be playing, but we won’t be out late. Not that the do ever goes much later than 10 p.m., but Scott is fighting a cold and I’m tired myself for no good reason. A brief afternoon nap before a one-mile walk for fresh air will be credited with giving me the wind to get through the evening.
Time to gussy up. Hee! What is that? Change into fresh clothing, splash some water on my face, brush my teeth and hair, put on a smile. Done. I’ll enjoy myself there well enough, but the best part will be coming home, as always.
I keep telling Scott that he will find Wartime Farm very interesting if he ever gets a chance to watch it. He’s always in bed by the time it comes on.
But it’s available on YouTube, episode by episode! Here’s the first one: