Life's simple pleasures (and occasional aggravations)

A few days ago Cliff and I were talking about one thing and another, and somehow the subject of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches came up.  
"I miss peanut butter and jelly sandwiches," I said.  "Remember the old days when, if we wanted something like that, we'd just go right ahead and have it?" 
One of our rules these days is to not eat impulsively.  Oh, we'll eat a tomato or some fruit between meals any time we want, and if we are out and about we'll occasionally have a McDonald's ice cream cone.  But to have a sandwich when it isn't mealtime is out of the question.  A sandwich is a whole meal-full of calories.  
Then it came to me:  Make that peanut butter and jelly sandwich serve as a meal!  And that's exactly what we did this morning.  Cliff chose strawberry jam, I'm having home-made peach.  It all comes to 450 calories, which is more than we usually splurge on breakfast, but I'll even things out at lunchtime.  
The thing is, the PBJ sandwich isn't nearly as good as I thought it would be, much too sweet.  So I won't be worrying about that any more.  I've gotten it out of my system.  

Cliff had his annual blood work and checkup Friday, in order to get his prescriptions renewed.  Yesterday the nurse called from the doctor's office saying he is a little anemic, and they need more blood, so this morning we'll go do that.  (Cliff says no wonder he's anemic, they keep taking his blood.)  
As we sat at the picnic table in front of the shop talking about this, I said, "You know, Phil (his older brother) started all this mess of everything going wrong.  HE'S the first one who had heart surgery.  HE'S the one who had bad PSA results first (their younger brother has recently had a blood test that revealed high PSA's).  If Phil hadn't started this ball rolling, you and Donald would probably be in perfect health!  I ought to call him and tell him off."  
The words had hardly left my mouth when the phone rang.  It was Phil.  
Maybe you just had to be there, but we found it hilarious. 

Just before Phil called, one of those wonderful, amazing things happened.  As I said, we were eating watermelon in front of Cliff's shop.  Out of nowhere, I suddenly heard a loud, loud roaring noise very close by, coming out of the south.  I hardly had time to look for the source when a Warthog airplane appeared over the top of our garage.  It was breathtaking, flying so low overhead it felt like we could have reached up and touched it.  It was one of those little gifts that will sometimes drop unexpectedly into a day; it could have so easily been missed if we had been inside, if we hadn't decided to have some watermelon at that particular time.