“We’re here already,” Al John messaged me when they arrived at Grants on Sherbrooke, 54 minutes away from where they live. Gayle and I had arranged to meet up for lunch at the cafe before heading out to Alfred Nicholas Memorial Garden.

I only live 24 minutes away from Kallista but somehow managed to get there in 30.

I wasn’t late. They were just early. That’s all I’m saying.

At any rate, it was so good to see Gayle and her family again after such a long time. Last time I saw them was October or November last year and despite all the verbal agreements of making sure to catch up on a regular basis, they were never binding. Before you know it, another season had come and gone and the optimistic procrastinators that we were, we continued to make those same agreements, but in Messenger format. Again, nonbinding.

So if you really think about it, these catch-ups are nothing short of a miracle. I kid you not.

We decided on checking out the garden at Sherbrooke, famous for its rustic boathouse that sits on the edge of a lake. The still water a mirror for the trees that surround it. Apparently, autumn is when it truly shines: a picturesque view of fallen leaves, wooden bridges, and hanging branches.

It did not disappoint.

For all the garden’s zen-like atmosphere, behind the peaceful scenery was Gayle and me laughing when she wasn’t wheezing and I wasn’t laughing at her wheezing.

Fair enough, it was a bit of a downhill walk to get to the lake so all her expressed intentions of grabbing some snacks after were well-deserved. During this accidental exercise, we planned which cafe we could hit next to make up for all the calories we didn’t expect to lose.

Also, to keep serving the tea.

But Gayle and I, we’re not really good at making solid decisions. Our wishy-washy wish to hang out at a cafe became a game of ping-pong where suggestions were met with other suggestions we were both equally amenable to which never helps our cause because we’re down for anything. Nevermind that we have no idea what that is.

In the end, Jeff volunteered to make us all steak and salad so we can have dinner at our house instead. That’s what I love about my husband. Not only is he a great cook, but he’s also very decisive. So while he spared me from the stress of having to decide where to go next, he gave me a new one as I thought about the state of the house when I left it in the morning. It’s all about balance, I suppose.

We had 24 minutes. As soon as we walked in our door, we immediately started cleaning like a couple of high-functioning meth addicts on a mission to impress their social worker. I swear I had never washed dishes that fast in my life!

By the time they arrived, the dining table was cleared, the floor robot-vacuumed, dinner candles were lit, and a record was playing.

I think I know now how we can keep a clean house: Invite people over more frequently.

*Raven at 8 years old