Subbing the Terrain Again

The Girl Her Grandfather Always Called "Popsicle"
Passing on her Knowledge to her Own Daughter

Yesterday included activities not conducive to a day following a night full of dancing and consuming mass quantities of the fermenter’s art. First there was the trip to the Hartford Airport where I had to drop off my Favorite Panamanian. She, in her role as the Massachusetts Musquetera, was headed south to spend some time with the Virginia Musquetera. That stalwart soul was overdue for some sister time with my wife following the month’s tragic event. I like the ease of getting in and out of the Hartford Airport. There’s only one problem – it’s in Connecticut; which despite its closeness always seems to throw up at least a couple curve balls to deflect what would otherwise be an easy trip.

Wingman Who Also Did Some Digging Yesterday
Demonstrating the Fine Art of Recovery Operations 

Despite my bitching and moaning about Connecticut traffic (again) she made it down to Virginia safely and I’m sure there was some late night conversing going down. Left to my own devices I started in on my latest excavation project on the back hill.  Again, not the prescribed activity for a foggy (at least in my head) Sunday. Predictably every single shovel struck stone and by the end of the day my wrists were once again throbbing from interaction with glacial debris. I added to my collection of stones, including one of the mongosso variety. I did get the hole roughed out and hope today to get the forms in place to start pouring cement. This is where it’s going to get interesting for this first time mason. I thank God I’m not being supervised as I’m sure my wife’s expertise would have been extended to this area if she was around.

Three Hours of Digging Yielded This

Meanwhile in NH - Grandpuppy Riggins Monitoring School Bus Boarding

Since separating from my wife for a week and further enhancing arthritic wrists wasn’t cheerful enough I had to attend the wake of a long time employee yesterday as well. We’re approximately the same age and he worked up until this spring when they discovered the cancer that eventually killed him this past week. He was much too young and never got to enjoy the retirement he and I spoke about at lengths over the years I’ve known him. It’s events like this that remind me of the encroaching years and leads me to question why I still work when I don’t have to. A certain tropical condo continues to exude its presence.