Last weekend offered a treat. My wife and I spent much of the day with good friends who live more than an hour away.
Two of my favorite traditional jazz bands would be playing in Denver — one in the afternoon, the other that evening. Wayne and Cristie agreed to join us for both concerts.
The late-winter weather cooperated for our drive over 7,500-foot Monument Hill.
We met at their house and talked, then drove to the first event. Between numbers we caught up on what we'd been doing and our plans. Three hours passed quickly, and we reconvened at the restaurant. The Queen City Jazz Band never sounded so good. With outstanding food and strong friendship, our evening passed too quickly.
This weekend offered another treat. Winter weather made a surprise encore, and my wife had to work both days at the public library. But I didn’t have a deadline pending, so I spent time with two other friends.
Paul and Jack live in Massachusetts and Vermont. I hadn’t seen either since October. But no matter. I had Paul’s Cool Blue Tomb on my Kindle, and a mass paperback of Jack’s Pandora’s Curse. Enough time had passed for both books to offer a fresh, yet familiar experience.
Next weekend I’ll face a deadline. But if I can make some progress the next few evenings, I might find a few hours for reading a book by Kathy or maybe Grant.
There’s nothing like a weekend with friends.