Winston Churchill once said, "When defeat is inevitable, you can either punt or negotiate."  Maybe, it was Don Shula that said it.  Or maybe Bill Gates.  Or, Martha Stewart.  Anyway, I negotiated. All of the powers that be accepted my alternate plan that called for me cooking in the boondocks and serving in our old location in the middle of the action.  It worked.  By noon on Thursday, I was sold out of steaks and had a big dent in everything else.  The only problem was that due to the really bad three weeks in a row, I only took two loins.  So, it wasn't a banner day, but an acceptable one.  Had I rolled the dice and taken a full load of steaks, it might have been a recordsetter.  The weekend was spent at Madison Heights Walmart.  Saturday was really busy but Friday and Sunday were slow.  Plus I lost another tent after being hit by one helluva gust of wind on Friday.  I sure wish I had stock in EZUp. Tuesday restarts basketball at Liberty with three games in the next six nights, plus, of course, Fredericksburg on Thursday with some iffy weather predicted.  Next week features a double header at Liberty and at the same time a three day show at Richmond Raceway.  Who says winter is slow in the concession business! One day last week, Peggy got a late Christmas package, opened the box in the kitchen, and took the presents into the living room for she and Todd to open.  Awhile later, they looked up and couldn't find Kagen.  A quick search, including the steps (a favorite destination) and behind the curtains looking out the sliding glass door, was not successful.  A more frantic search began and several minutes later, Kagen was found----in the empty box with Tiger (one of the cats)----both asleep. Sunday she called to tell me that Kagen has now taken my advice and coaching. Since he was an infant, I've tried to teach him the same tricks I taught my grandson Grant (and will teach Katie when she gets here) like how to flush the diaper down the commode and make a big waterfall in the bathroom.  And how to open the refridgerator door and dump the milk carton on his head. Well, Kagen decided that the commode was the perfect recepticle for just about everything.  Trash can liners.  Toys.  Trash cans.  Cats.  You name, it goes in.  Now he just has to get the flushing thing. Ah.  The joys or grandfatherhood.