The Weekend is over

We had a great weekend.  On Saturday, Troy and I ran some errands and picked up plants and potting soil to fill our window boxes and pots.  We bought some tomato plants, too, because the ones we're growing from seeds are still so tiny, it's disheartening.  The bush beans we planted in the vegetable bed are sprouting, though, and so are some sunflowers.  It's so great to see things growing in the garden.  

We were looking at sliding glass doors on the internet.  We really want to put one in our dining room, with a deck into the back yard.  And have the house painted.  And have the driveway repaved.  And we have no money to do any of that . . .

Saturday evening, after running around and gardening, I didn't feel like making dinner.  We had a plate of vegetables and then went to the mall food court.  We had fun with the boys, going up and down escalators, and we went to H&M and found them each a "cool" cap and some shirts on sale.  

Yesterday we went to old friends for a barbeque lunch.  The kids played nicely, and the grownups got to talk.  We got home by 4:30, so still had time for a walk and to play some games before bedtime.  

After weekends like that, it's hard to leave and go to work.

I don't consider myself a funny person, but every once in a while, I'll crack a joke that will make people laugh.  The weird thing is, I seem to do it at the time when I would think I would be most shy and inhibited. 

As a first year associate, I was assigned to cover a few depositions in which we represented one of about two dozen companies that had been sued.  If the plaintiff had lined up the defendants in order of importance, our client would probably have been around number 20.  The depositions were tortuously long affairs, with dozens of lawyers in dark suits sitting around long conference tables, while one or two droned on, asking questions for hours.  The rest of us kept only one ear open so that we could blurt out the obligatory "Objection!" whenever our respective clients' names were mentioned, regardless of the question.  The rest of time we doodled, or daydreamed, or read the paper.

The partner I was working for, though, suggested I might want to ask one or two questions, to establish that the deponent didn't really know which product of our client's was supposedly involved.  When it came time for me to ask my two questions,somehow, with 20 lawyers looking down the long conference table at me, and the stenographer typing every word into her computer, I managed to crack a joke.  A pretty mild, friendly one, aimed at the plain silliness of the question I had asked ("You didn't memorize the item numbers of every one of dozens of products from ten years ago?")  But why right then?  Sometimes it still comes to me that somewhere in some transcript, amid hours of boring testimony, there's my little joke and the notation "(Laughter)", and I'm still embarrassed.