AutoTopic: Describe Your Ideal Saturday Night
Ha! Ok you asked for it, Mr. WordPress autotopic generator. My Ideal Saturday Night occurs sometime in the future, so I suppose this will be my first published Science Fiction. I think it will look a lot like this
when if it happens:
I am surveying my small kingdom from my front porch with a beer snuggled into a coozie in hand. The evening air is cool but not uncomfortable in the days of a warm fall. The setting sun is setting the turning leaves of the hardwoods firey colors, punctuated by the pines. I reflect on the Awesome Day I’ve just completed. It began well after finishing off my 11,578th BrainRant post for my virtual army of fans. Afterward, I woke Di with a warm cup of coffee and a kiss, then slipped quietly out to the woodshop as she snuggled deeper into the covers. In the shop, wrapped in the aroma of sawdust, turpentine, and varnish, I expertly finish off another masterpiece of Arts and Crafts furniture to complete our home’s complement. As I sweep up the wood dust I think what a lucky man I am that in spite of the hours I absent myself in here, Di remains supportive and enthusiastic about the works I generate.
I close the shop and decide, on a whim, to mow the yard a day early. Fortuitously, Di waves from the back railing with her coffee – I will not awaken her with the mower. I move from woodworking Zen to lawn care Zen, mowing, edging, and weeding where needed. I finish and smilingly present Di a heavy basket of fresh garden produce, likely the last of the season. I munch down some delicious leftovers and set out tonight’s steaks to thaw for later grilling. I prepare to shower when Di asks me to fetch the mail, and I do so buck naked, just because I can, and because I live so far off paved roads that this behavior is undetectable. I find a few bills and the inevitable junk mail among the royalty checks for my books and the payments for my highly-sought works of furniture art. I toss these on the pile for whenever I get around to it.
After making myself smell good with a shower, I take some time to read. Di tells me the kids are coming over for a visit, and we’re overjoyed. I help her straighten and prepare the spare bedrooms, and dig out some sleeping bags. As the afternoon sun gets richer and the shadows lengthen, I fire up the grill as first one and then another car arrives. Our daughters, finally getting time off from their hectic but well-paying, successful careers, follow the shouting, running, energetic pack of grandkids that are about to wet their pants in excitement over visiting Granddad and Grandmom. My equally-successful and well-paid sons-in-law greet me with smiles and I remark that they really can stop calling me ‘sir’ after all these years.
After a great dinner, my son calls from somewhere in the world – busy at his latest project but planning on dropping in next month. I go to the kitchen and find our offspring and great-offspring have cleaned the kitchen. Before joining everyone for a movie, I pull one last beer from the refrigerator and head outside…
Like I said, probably fiction, but I can always hope.