Sunday Love

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I was about five years old when I was helping Dad make the sauce, and I said, “Dad, I have an idea. We should have pasta every Sunday”

He laughed, “That’s not your idea,” he said. “It’s what we do.”

The Yankees laid an egg in game one of the division series on Saturday, but I had a grand plan for Sunday:

A round of golf with my buddies at my favorite course!

Pasta!

Yankees tie it up!

Family time!

An eye on the Bills before bed.

The round of golf was a smashing success in 80 degree weather. 

Pops had 3 birdies in the round, which was fun to see. Yet I was steady all day and had a blast.

The pasta was straight spaghetti and meatballs, which is one of the least exotic sauces I make, but still a great dinner.

Sunday was going beautifully.

And the Yankees shot it all to hell, but hey, it ain’t over ‘till it’s over’, and in the spirit of Yogi, they’ll try again back in the Bronx.

They’ve been down 0-2 in this round before and came all the way back, so there’s still hope.

Ollie was relentless, as usual, and he can’t ever catch enough passes.

As the evening hours slowly drifted away, I felt the ache in my back, and thoughts of the coming week creeped in.

And I thought back to my plan to have pasta on Sunday.

Was a great idea.

Perfect way to get the week started.

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