Friends of ours are leaving the province in a couple of days, so we had them over last night, along with our friend John and his kids. We had barbecued chicken (the bbq looked a litte iffy for a while, but then the rain stopped and the clouds parted) and oven-roasted potatoes and a couple of salads.
Oh my, what a night that was. I think I was probably the most sober of us all (barring the kids, who, at 11 and 8, are ineligible for wine and beer and spirits, and so they had to get hopped up on Coke, sugar cookies, and vinerterte).
A good night was had by all, as far as I could tell, but this AM my darling wife, sad to say, is paying the price.
Photos in the full post.
So the story goes like this:
Byron has worked with me for five years. In fact, he does the job I used to do, back before I became the webmonkey at the university. He married Beth and she moved down here too.
Both of them are originally from The Rock, aka Newfoundland. In fact, Byrorn moved here from Newfoundland to start work at the U.
About two months ago, a job posting appeared at a university back home in Newfoundland. Byron applied for it, had a fifteen-minute phone interview that he thought he’d flubbed, and thought nothing more of it.
Three weeks ago, they called him back, asking if they could check his references. That was Monday morning. By Monday evening he’d accepted the job.
It’s a step up in pay, responsibility, and job title, and we wish Byron all the best. We’ll miss him, of course, but he’s gotta do what’s right for him. They‘ve gotta do what’s right for them.
We’ll miss you, Beth and Byron. All the best.