Rusty Screws and Rotten Wood

I was pretty tired after a busy day yesterday, and was looking forward to a more or less relaxing day. I woke in time to feel the last brisk kiss of the dawn, made myself a coffee and read the paper. Life is pretty good!

Louise and Bill roused themselves and the day started to unravel just a tiny bit. Bill was leaving shortly after breakfast, in order to enjoy the last of his vacation in Edmonton. Edmonton wouldn’t be my first choice for a vacation destination, but each to his own. He gathered his belongings, loaded the van and as he drove off, Louise and I stood on the sidewalk waving goodbye. We always make a big deal of waving goodbye to anyone that visits our house. It is a nice tradition, and you don’t always have to use all of your fingers. In Bill’s case we used the whole hand.

Now that we were alone and feeling just a tad less than we were moments before, it seemed like a Tim Horton’s moment. Before you could say “A large double, double in a china mug please. Oh, and how about one of your breakfast sandwiches?” we were sitting at a table, looking out of the window laughing at the bad drivers. The thing that I love about Louise is that we don’t have to do anything to enjoy doing it. Just so long as we aren’t doing it together.  

We stopped at “We Be Toys” and picked up a plastic bowling set for the next time that Hurricane and Tornado come over. We were feeling somewhat lucky so of course we had to celebrate that feeling with a chance to win millions and millions of dollars. I have my fingers, toes, eyes and intestines crossed for good luck.

We go home and enjoy a more or less empty house. What is it about humans that make one place so much more “right” than any other place? I am pretty sure that it is being surrounded by familiar smells and sights. I can remember the smells of each of my friend’s homes when I was a kid. Every now and then when I was delivering the mail I would have to talk to different people for signatures, and when they opened their door I would immediately think of Mike, Don, Bingy or Rob. Don’t get me wrong, their homes didn’t stink, well, the Catholic ones did smell of fish on Fridays, but all of that was to be expected. Smells can sure jog the memory. I think of my grandmother whenever I go into an antique store. I think of my youngest grandchild whenever I drive past the sewage treatment plant.

So, we are home and I called my friend Ken and went for coffee and plumbing supplies. His, not mine. My plumbing is just fine, thank you very much! While we were out I got a call from my daughter who said that her husband needed a second warm body for deck repair. It is always nice to be wanted and I would get to see the grandkids. Bonus!

I loaded up some tools that I thought that would be handy and spent the last part of the afternoon replacing rusty screws and rotten boards on their deck. You know that kind of sounds like an early Elton John song. There is something so fulfilling about finishing a project and standing back when all is done and surveying your handy work.

Louise came over to join us for dinner and made a perfect end to a glorious day.