Airport

Friday, I checked Sam's flight arrival status before leaving for the airport. Her plane was scheduled to land at 10:20 pm. By the time I made it to the arrivals area, it had been delayed fifty minutes. The Detroit Metro airport arrival zone was busy. I guess it is not unusual for a Friday night. I left the airport and parked at a gas station not far away.

I made my way back to pick up Sam at the new arrival time. She arrived safely, and we headed home. Sam drove from Detroit to St. Paul with her stepson. She drove his car, and he drove a U-haul truck.  He is staying in St. Paul for two months as a summer intern. Sam was exhausted from the trip.  She regaled me with stories from the trip, including a torrential storm and the stepson's girlfriend's support bird. It was a hilarious tale, but I could not begin to do it justice here.

Saturday, the twins came over and spent the night. It was the first time both spent the night simultaneously in a long while. We took a walk through the nearby neighborhoods, and I made dinner.  It was a good visit.

Sunday, while I was driving the twins to their mom's house. I saw pallets being offered for free along the road. I texted Ava.  She has this strange idea that she can use pallets to create a seating area in the backyard of the new boyfriend's house. When she told me of her plans, I asked, "Is he handy?"

"He's Jewish. He'd rather pay someone else to do things," Ava replied.

Bathwater: I saw a couple stacks of pallets when I was out driving this morning. Are you still looking for some?

Ava: If they look good, yes. Just 9 max, but even 2-4 is a good start.

Bathwater: If I pick them up, I don't want to get stuck with them. 

Ava: No, you won't get stuck with them.

I picked up four and set them in the garage for Ava. I am not sure how she plans on getting them to the house.

Later I washed the truck, but it turned out to be a useless endeavor. Sam called me later and wanted to get something to eat. We picked a restaurant on Lake St. Clair. It started raining while we were eating, and it rained again Monday morning on the way to work.

So far, the dating apps are devoid of any exciting prospects. So far, I've only chatted with a scam artist, a depressed mother of three, and two sixty-year-old women whose interests are tennis and golf.

If Ava decides it isn't worth trying to maintain a connection, I fear it will be a dry Summer for me, but perhaps I am just being pessimistic. Ava and I are supposed to get together Tuesday, but I haven't pestered her about it. I'm sure she will reach out one way or the other, and then there are also these pallets.