One year ago, at our neighborhood association picnic / annual meeting, the president of the association announced, “I’ve been the president for years and I’m done.  Someone else has to take over.” And a complete silence took over the meeting.

And the silence lingered.

And lingered.

And the air seemed to get thicker with discomfort and nerves.  I was enjoying it immensely – watching the neighbors faces as they tried to slink down in their chairs to look smaller and inconspicuous – looking to each other with pleading eyes, “You do it,” “No, you.”  I could have sat an watched for hours, but my poor, sweet husband…the discomfort took over.  He spoke up, even though with a joke, saying “Hey, Tim, you’ll do it won’t you?”  Tim, looking mortified said, “Uh, um, no, but I nominate you.”

With a collective sigh of relief, the “I second that nomination,” “I third,” etc. began being voiced.  And so it was, my husband broke under the pressure and said “Ok, I’ll do it.”

Now here it is a year later.  We’ve learned that the job of association president is really quite non-existent, but today is the annual picnic / meeting, at the president’s house.  In other words – our house.

My husband, disliking being the center of attention, will have to hold the meeting – and there’s always the possibility that someone will want to see the inside of the house.  So, if I don’t get off the computer and start cleaning, getting ready for his big day, he might lose it.

Until tonight…I’m signing off.