There was no banjo-playin’ last weekend for Banjo Man.

The father-of-the-bride is the busiest person at our house.  He wanted me to go with him to a local garden center to pick out the exact shade of impatiens to match the bride’s bouquet. I’m embarrassed to admit I had a small anxiety attack–I was in the middle of finishing a difficult synopsis and still in my jammies at 11 AM–so Banjo Man kindly retracted the invitation.  I in turn rummaged through my stacks of quilting fabrics to find the right shade of pink so he could take fabric to the garden store and not me.  Clever, huh???