Graduating Travels

Front Yard Yesterday

The wife is battling the first of her colds which seem to come every year as her tropical constitution is confronted with the changing autumn temperatures.  The only problem this time with her affliction is that she had scheduled a dance date for the evening.  Anybody who knows her realizes we were looking at a miracle cure level motivation to feel better.  She emptied the medicine cabinet late on Friday night to find out if we had any unexpired cold medicine from last year’s autumnal ritual.  She always reacts strongly to medication and was down for the count yesterday morning which left me in a completely unsupervised state.

The Product of my Wife's Raid

The trees are coloring up and falling very fast this year. We had a healthy covering on the front yard where my usual method of waiting for the hilltop winds to move them out was thwarted by the rain.  There was a steady drizzle so I was confined indoors – see earlier comments on my feelings about moist outdoor work.  Since I was without my normal task master I decided to attack a crack in the plaster in the family room.  I look up and see it from Couch Potato Position #1 and it bugs me. 

Back Yard YEsterday

I should lead this discussion off by stating I have almost no latent handyman skill outside of curiosity and a lifelong addiction to This Old House. I started out scouring the crack to prepare it for repair but when I got to the top of the crack a huge hunk of plaster separated from the wall and showered my assistant Buddy the Wonder Pooch.  My heart lurched a little bit because my wife was going to awake at some point and see this huge hole in the wall in the middle of her family room (it becomes hers whenever I pull some bone head move like this).

Whoops!

Channeling my inner Norm, I applied the nine year old joint compound I found in the basement and it didn’t turn out too badly.  By the time my supervisor arrived on the scene it just needed some paint and she was mildly impressed.  This section of wall is directly below our bedroom and she was wondering what all the scraping was about.  I’m so glad she slept in yesterday and the nine year old paint I found still matched.  One more coat today and I declare victory.

Plastered

First Coat of Paint

My other indoor project yesterday involved replacing a smoke detector; sounds easy right?  Remember who you’re dealing with here.  When the earlier smoke detector met its prolonged fate (these things die hard) I couldn’t find an exact replica so I’d be installing one that needed to be rewired.  Since my wife was now on her feet she assisted by telling me when I hit the right circuit breaker to kill the power to the room I’d be working in – see not a complete idiot (or so I thought).  I was semi-proud of myself hooking the thing up (color coding helps so much).   When I attached the last wire though the thing ominously lit up.  I had been working with live wires the entire time!  I think this was God telling me not to get too cocky.

Cranston Party

My sister had sprung a graduation celebration for my namesake nephew right on top of the dance date so we were traveling to Rhode Island before dancing.  I’m so proud of this young man who hated school his entire life but found his niche in life when he discovered he loved repairing cars.  He recently graduated from technical school (hence the celebration) and immediately started work at his local Chevy dealership where he is thriving.  He’s always been a very hard worker and I couldn’t be prouder of him.  All this being said there was no way I was going to miss the party.  We made our way through the rapidly increasing rain to Cranston and my sister’s house.  Although there was failed experiment involving an inherited card table, the house was its usual bounty of good feelings and laughter.  I even got into the house without a crotch strike from my sister’s dog (a rarity). 

My Unfocused Namesake and His Mom

I’ve written before about how much fun I derive just sitting around a table with my sister and her remarkable in laws – just great people.  When her sister in law arrived fashionably late she immediately attacked me for my characterizations of Rhode Islanders in general and her specifically on this blog. I stand by all of those characterizations, assisted by her brother, my sister’s husband.  I am somewhat terrified to upset her though because of her arcane ability to ruin Red Sox seasons.  I think taking photos of her robs her of some of that ability so I made sure to snap one of her before leaving.

Ms. Photogenic Herself

I didn’t want to leave after so short a time with these awesome people but dancing at Maxwell Silverman’s beckoned and my wife would not be denied.  The ride back up to Worcester was eventful as the rain had increased to deluge levels and I learned my car has a hydroplaning warning light (good to know).  We arrived safely in time to greet another couple from the Panamanian Mafia.  We had a very self-important, rotund waiter who made up for his lack of tact with a complete absence of timeliness.  His name was, of course, Pierre.  He turned out to be a fun guy on the rare occasion he did stop by but luckily the bar was close enough for refills when Pierre went missing.

The Maxwell Table

We had our usual fantastic time at Maxwell’s with the middle aged crowd cutting the rug.  There was some sort of birthday party in an adjacent room filled almost exclusively with blonds.  They had some six or seven year old gals that absolutely loved the dance floor.  While this cut down on some of my more exotic dance moves (that was added for humor – don’t have any) it felt almost like a wedding reception.  The dancing was exactly what my wife needed to cure her of the autumnal woes.  We made our way home in the early morning hours tired, but fairly certain we’d wrung a good day out a dreary, rainy period.

A Lucky Guy Last Night

Considering this Was My Date!