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.