Labor Love

Reunited and it Felt So Good

The annual Labor Day holiday hasn’t been a big deal for me in adulthood. It was in my youth because it meant the end of summer and the dreaded (at least until college) return of school. I say this in preparation for trying to relate what may be the best Labor Day holiday. I haven’t written here lately because there is an inverse relationship between the desire to write and the presence of my granddaughter.

Monitoring Traffic with Abuela

She blew into town Friday bringing along her parental support package and immediately dominated First Friday proceedings, as she is wont to do. She cajoled her grandmother into monitoring Shrewsbury Street traffic for a long time that the grandmother did not mind at all.  We returned home together to find that that same gramma had spent most of the day bringing her toys from their various storage areas and turned the living room once more into her personal play room. She has a pronounced way of walking; swinging her arms almost theatrically and I couldn’t help laugh as she visually inspected all aspects of her play room.

Inspecting the Play Room

It was also fantastic to have those parental units around again as we called in some pizza and adult beverages to wash the Connecticut travel from their psyches. We contacted the Favorite Son and ABFA who were spending their weekend at a New Hampshire lake with the ABFA’s family. We’d planned on going there ourselves on Sunday but the remnants of Hurricane Harvey ruined that. We collectively agreed that putting in 21 month old in a car ride for two plus hours each way and then having the spend the time at the lake inside was not highly beneficial for the sanity of all involved. That was the only true downer for the weekend.

MAking Sure All the Toys are Out

Helping Grandpa Scramble some Eggs

Saturday was a completely different story with fantastic weather all day long. My Favorite Panamanian and I serve as the early morning crew during their visits. I heard one of her parents arise to get her out of bed and that was followed by a knock very low on our bedroom door. She summarily dismissed her parent for the target rich environment of her grandparents. She said very clearly, “I want to go downstairs and play”. As if we were in position to deny her anything. She was soon crawling inside the containers to insure every single toy had been deployed.

Garden Inspection

Working in the Garden

I eventually eased towards the kitchen and she directed I start up the coffee pot for her parents’ eventual arrival. She provided expert assistance for that standing on the counter next to the coffee pot. She also pitched in scrambling some eggs. I was impressed with her progress since our last experience at that activity. I let her do all the stirring which she handled without a single spill. Heretofore we would have had egg laced walls but yet another thing Wingman has been able to teach her was redeemed.

Adding Some Beauty to the Fire Pit

Once breakfast was dispatched we moved outside for some lawn chores. My granddaughter assisted her abuela with maintenance on the latter’s vast gardens although more flowers were picked than originally intended. She’s always been a very busy child and loves working in the gardens. I was assigned to the future fire pit and to start the “lipstick on a pig” phase of its required cosmetic upgrade. I’ll be cementing rocks to the outside of the cement mass for the next few days. I did take the opportunity of having the FBR (First Blog Reader) in residence to get her palm print imbedded in some wet cement. I’m hoping when she reads this a couple decades from now that the hand print is still there for her to see. Anything short of a direct nuclear strike should keep the damned thing there.

Success!

The highlight of the weekend was the picnic planned for later on Saturday with Great Aunt, Soxfather, and Keene Friend all scheduled to put in an appearance. Great Aunt showed up with Buddy’s ashes which was a lot more emotional than I anticipated. My old friend is back down in the Man Cave, our favorite dual haunt, for the foreseeable future. I had planned on interring all three dogs’ ashes that I keep there but think Favorite Son should be here for that (so it could be a while).  The vet also prepared a plaster imprint of Buddy’s paw which came along with the ashes which I’ll treasure.

Saturday Dinner

So Much Fun!

Bubble Blowing

We noted Buddy’s absence during the FBR’s meal times. He used to love to swoop in and clean up the inevitable residue she deposited on the floor. That task was now left to her grandparents. The gathering Saturday afternoon was everything you’d expect when these excellent personages gather. We seared some dead animal flesh and consumed semi-vast quantities of adult beverages. The frequent target/subject of conversation was the cosmetically challenged fire pit which I defended as a work in progress. The FBR was in the middle of the action completely charming everyone involved and also insisted on serial bubble blowing operations. She even deigned to grant the Great Aunt some quality time instead of assiduously ignoring her. Gathered around that table with those people remains the height of what I consider a good time. The conversation and laughter melded with the declining daylight and falling temperatures which carried an autumnal taste.

Swinging With Abuela

Showing Soxfather Her Gardens

Great Aunt Hugs on the Fire Pit

The Rhode Island contingent had to return south as night fell but the Keene Friend astoundingly decided to spend the night and promised not to make one of his patented pre-dawn escapes. I can only assume the FBR’s charm won him over, an easy assumption to make. He did stay around long enough to sample yet another rendition of my granddaughter’s coffee making prowess as Sunday dawned as dismally as projected. It rained for the entire day but that’s easier to take when trying to keep up with a 21 month old. She rarely slowed down all day and introduced me to the intricacies of Daniel Tiger. This was a PBS animated children’s show that seems to have replaced Mr. Rogers with an annoying tiger. My granddaughter, with one of tee only shows she’s allowed to view, was transfixed.

Sunday Finger Painting

And Homemade Play Dough

Sunday also saw my wife's creative side in full flower. She had the FBR finger painting which was every bit as messy as you'd surmise. The FBR kept looking over at Wingman to see if it was okay to be so dirty. My wife also created some homemade play dough which was a huge hit. We encouraged Wingman and my daughter to take in some movies whilst we were around to babysit. They hit one in the afternoon and I accompanied my daughter to a late night show for a movie I’d already seen. It was a spur of the moment thing because I didn’t want her leaving the theater by herself after midnight but it turned out to be a return to a favored joint activity from when she still lived at home. She and my son (for action and horror) were my movie buddies when they were growing up while my wife engaged in more mercantile pursuits. Sitting together in the movie theater late Sunday night brought a lot of those memories back.

Monday Morning Pancake Prep

Monday came entirely too quickly as it spelled the end of their sojourn with us. We took them out to lunch at the Cracker Barrel all the way out in Charlton to assist them on their traffic clogged escape. The return home  went well and in the late afternoon we received a photo showing the FBR already partying with some neighborhood kids. As I said, she rarely slows down. Our own return home brought with it feelings of a vast emptiness which is hard to credit when you consider just how small a physical presence created it. I amuse myself by adding another row of rocks to the ongoing cement facelift project. Best Labor Day Weekend. Ever.

Cracker Barrel Puzzles

Back in New Jersey and Immediately Partying