How do you define a great day? And not an epoch-changing day (like the fall of the Iron Curtain or the Second Coming). Just a great day . . . one you'd like to repeat. Often.

Well, here was the schedule of events for Dave the Swede's excellent Sunday.

8:30 Wake up.

9:30 Go to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for a pot of ratatouille.

11:00 Go to church.

12:30 Go to annual parish picnic, complete with overcooked hamburgers and a visit from the Budweiser truck.

1:45  Yard work. Pick up the debris from the tropical storm. Trim back that overgrown bush, put out mulch (to wife's delight and surprise), cut grass.

2:30 Interrupt work to chat with a neighbor about my Labrador Retriever who is tied to the lamp post to keep me company.

3:00  Cook up the ratatouille.

4:00 Go to pitching practice with my 13-year-old left-hander who has great control of his pitches.

6:00 Come home to cook bratwurst on the grill. Watch sons devour bratwurst. Eat said ratatouille.

7:30 'til bed: Read a history book about World War II and a book by Adrienne von Speyr on Romans 8.

That was a great day.