Mulching Thunder

My arms are so tired right now that I’m having difficulty keeping them available for typing. This will go down as payment exacted for a little excess entertainment over the past weekend. Ahh, a mystery. Not so much. I spent all of yesterday moving a veritable mountain of mulch to cover my Favorite Panamanian’s vast garden complex. I know there are those who question my description of my wife’s plots but you’ve never had to spread mulch over them. I was impressed even though I knew how many there were. Typically, last night on the phone she was describing where she plans of caving out the next one. I believe the operative phrase would be, “Yikes!”.

Problem Solving crew at Penuche's

Now to the more important and less muscle taxing events of the weekend. We started out with a lively First Friday call where everyone attended at once, for once. Although that conjunction was brief, it was a true salve to loneliness to see all those familiar faces. If that was a salve, then Saturday’s events can be classified as a miracle cure. I made one of my thunder runs to my hometown in the afternoon. I showed up at Keene Friend’s house and we ambled down the street to Penuche’s Ale House which is now open in the afternoons since the owner’s other bar, the Cobblestone, burned down. This would classify as one of those silver linings thangs.

First Friday Facetime

Since the ambling took us by my old kindergarten at Wheelock School, I felt obligated to send a picture to the family. It has become a tradition that I never fail to inflict my deep hometown nostalgia on my kids. I probably wouldn’t do it except they groan each time which serves as motivation. Yes, I am evil. We were joined at the bar in short order by the Cantankerous Friend fresh off a mileage dispute with his bike riding partner. Yes, the Cantankerous One left his kinder, gentler personae in Panama and resorted to form. Kindergarten Friend arrived, having finished his grandson little league duties and was followed by Keene Friend 2. We had a quorum! We spent the afternoon solving all the Boston sports’ teams’ issues (if they would only listen!). There was the obligatory semi-soused call to the Pittsburgh College Roommate who was wiling away his retirement time working at a golf course. Method to that madness when it comes to tee times. In was, in short, a fabulous afternoon spent hanging with my oldest friends in a place I love. The town, but the pub as well.

I Went to Kindergarten Here! (for my kids)

We made out way back to Keene Friend’s house (sending another kindergarten picture to my long suffering progeny along the way) for more beer, pizza, and a Red Sox game. At least the beer and pizza were good; no comment on yet another Sox failure. The Cantankerous One and Keene Friend teamed up trying to convince me to start watching the NBA again. They wanted me to extend my Sunday stay to take in the Celtics playoff game which they were watching together. I was tempted but I knew I had the aforementioned mountain of mulch awaiting me as the days dwindle down leading up to my Favorite Panamanian’s return. If I was going to get this job done, unsupervised, it had to be Sunday. I discovered a new route up the back hill which allowed me to push the wheelbarrow up to the highest terrace for the first time, as long as I didn’t overload the wheelbarrow. That meant more trips but made the work go much faster than having to fill buckets and carry those up. This job usually gets split up over several days but I got it all done Sunday. Hence the muscle failure I’m experiencing in the arms today. Yes, getting old can suck at times.

Mulch Mountain

The granddaughter corps was up and about this past weekend as well but in fewer bars. The FBR had T-ball and swim practice as well as fishing with Wingman. She still had time to capture and squire a chicken named Nemo around. This brought back memories of Panama where chickens in the yard are almost a requirement. Meanwhile the tag team of the BRS and BR3 were out in the good weather as well. As true New Englanders they were outside enjoying the springlike (finally) weather. They went to a children’s museum and reportedly dominated there.

FBR

BR3

BRS

FBR Fishing with Wingman

Childrens Museum

FBR and Nemo

That Smile!

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RECURRING CHARACTERS:                                        

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete - my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd musquetera (musketeer); Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; Pittsburgh College Roommate– high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course