That helped a little bit in
dealing with the task at hand – filling the garden I had just created for my
wife. Luckily I had my new (actually
reconfirmed) hero – the Keene Friend, to help me with the task. We attended church service which, due to
Memorial Day, concluded with the Battle Hymn of the Republic – which apparently
my Keene Friend has been waiting years for.
It was stirring and the entire church rose and put their hands over
their hearts – brought tears to my eyes.
It would be inappropriate to
let this day pass without comment as to the sacrifice of so many that the rest
of us can enjoy life. You only need look
at the daily news to know that without that sacrifice evil stands ever ready to
challenge that freedom. Thank you to those gallant wolves who kept evil at bay.
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| Buddy Protecting Us from the Delivery Truck |
I arranged for the delivery
of huge piles of dirt, compost, and mulch.
Buddy went into paroxysms of raging protection during each delivery
which was fairly entertaining. My Keene Friend
and I started out by stripping off the turf in the unseasonably cold weather
which was complimented by fairly regular rain showers. This was not fun and it was so good having
the stalwart help of my Keene Friend.
Otherwise I would still be out there shoveling.
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| Stripping the Turf Off |
 |
| Turf Stripped |
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| The Two Piles on the Left Had to Moved Behind the Wall |
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| My Wife Helping - Prepared for the Elements |
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| Finished - Sun Comes Out As We Finished |
We took several breaks which
usually resulted in snacks provided by the wife and checking in on a Red Sox
game that seemed to be going exactly the wrong way. We gave up on that and returned to our
shovels. After the turf we started
transferring the dirt behind the new wall.
When we reached the appropriate height we summoned the wife outside to
help. The final level would require
mixing the compost with the dirt as it was shoveled into the garden. My wife came out dressed like Nanook of the North
– she doesn’t handle cold well. The
neighbor was so impressed with her outfit that she came over to discuss it with
her. Buddy apparently found something he
liked in the compost pile and kept trying to steal in and eat something only to
be chased off by the work crew. My wife
turned out to be a great worker and by the time we had everything behind the
wall she had it looking great.
I’m very proud of how it
came out. It took a lot of work and it’s
not finished yet as I now have plants to put in – my wife has that on the schedule
for today. I’m also going to add a few
more stones to the downhill side and finally the capstones and mulch. The hardest stuff is behind me now and I have
to thank the Keene Friend for spending one of his rare days off helping me with
the back breaking part of the work.
 |
| My Wife's Flowers Take Over the Family Room |
We came into the house mud
spattered and exhausted. First we had to move all my wife's flowers in form the deck since it would be so cold overnight. I glanced at
the television and noticed that against all odds the Red Sox had rallied to
win! Thanks to the DVR I was able to
rewind the TV which brought us back to the bottom of the ninth and the stirring
win with the clutch hit by a player – Ellsbury, which I’ve been incredibly
critical of. That was pretty cool.
We rewarded ourselves for
all the work with a movie last night. We
went to see Hangover 3 which was pretty entertaining. There wasn’t a lot of room direction wise for
this franchise to go. It was a lot
darker that the previous two but it wasn’t the normal rehash of the same plot
of first two. It was an appropriate send
off for the boys as they literally walk off into the sunset before the
franchise got too stale.
On Saturday I finished
reading The Great Gatsby again. I
hadn’t read it since high school when I read it under the normal teenaged
protest of being forced to read something simply because the teachers thought
it was great. After seeing the movie I
felt a weird need to re-connect with the book.
As soon as I started, my first thought was, my God the teachers were
right. Fitzgerald’s prose really is on
another level, descriptively, than most other writers. I found myself immersed in his world almost
immediately and just marveling at his ability to write. I read so much popular pulp fiction writers
that when I am exposed to a master – such as Fitzgerald – I am left in awe. Youth really is wasted on the young – I can’t
believe I didn’t appreciate this book more when I was sixteen.
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| Sisterly Wisdom Dispensed |
EDITOR’S NOTE: It has been brought to my attention by the
offended party that she (my sister) first told me about the Thundershirt over a
year ago. I was waxing eloquently last
week on this blog about my son in law pointing out this device to help Buddy
with his terror of thunderstorms.
Apparently my sister felt slighted that I didn’t remember or give her
appropriate credit for first suggesting this to me. I asked if I had been drinking when she suggested
this and she admitted that I was. My
incredulity level rises along with my blood alcohol content so I can see myself
dismissing a suggestion of clothing my dog in shirt for thunderstorms. Since she doesn’t lie I believe she did make
the suggestion and that I summarily dismissed it at the time. I throw myself on her benevolent mercy for
this atrocious beer induced failure to recognize her brilliance. J
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