We have had this standing date for about a year. I call him up at 6:20 to tell him I am getting in gear, then it is off to Cashton to pick up my date. He is no fool; he knows I am always late. Sundays with Grandpa Ike are my mini-vacation. I pull up around 7, and we head for our destination; uptown for the weekly breakfast meeting, where all the important people are certain to be eating. We cruise to Bobby John’s, the breakfast hot spot. Sue and her team have the bacon flipping; the griddle is hot. The smiling gang greets us with hearty hellos as we walk in, pull out chairs and ask where have you been? A more jovial crew is not to be found. Set to the soundtrack of classic country music in the background, they trade tales of times past. This storytelling party is truly a blast. There is garbalogist extraordinaire Jerome at the head, ordering the aptly named Brueggen special; ready to be fed. Face never without a smirk and a joke on his tongue, his sense of humor most definitely keeps him young. His doe of 51 years, Elvera sits to his left. She jabs right back with the jokes with experienced deft, dancing polkas together most every Sunday afternoon, keeps their love for each other in fine tune. Ione is the baseball guru. Need to know the game time? Score? She will update you. When you are with a man, you don’t need money. She quips as the check comes; as her dear says you are right honey. Her other half Bud, always good for a tease. Apple pie without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze. Their entertaining banter is a sign of many a year married. They can quibble back and forth without becoming harried. Mary grabs the paper to see who has passed away. Conversation ensues; who knows who is a topic every Sunday. She always makes sure to ask Grandpa about his week, leaning close and giving her volume a tweak. Dan and Lynda often up from West Bend. They fit in so perfect to this circle of friends, smiling and laughing to stories heard twice or more, as Dan grabs the coffee pot, ready to pour. Then there is my dear Grandpa; his eggs, toast and bacon. He adores this Sunday group; one cannot be mistaken. The combined years of wisdom is hard to believe. No doubt time with them has helped him to grieve. Often times Uncle Jeff and Uncle Mark roll in for a meal. If Grandpa is paying, they get a good deal. The tales get taller and the @#$% gets deeper. I relish these early Sundays; good thing I am not a late sleeper. The gossiping less gossipy when laced with real concern. The wishes for a good week, sincere, as we all adjourn. This special time spent with them is a treasure to me. Grandpa Ike and all; a reminder that good friends are indeed key. Jacqui and her family milk 800 cows and run 1,200 acres of crops in the northeastern corner of Vernon County, Wis. Her children, Ira (12), Dane (10), Henry (5) and Cora (toddler), help her on the farm while her husband, Keith, works on a grain farm. If she’s not in the barn, she’s probably in the kitchen, trailing after little ones, or sharing her passion of reading with someone. Her life is best described as organized chaos – and if it wasn’t, she’d be bored.