Elder Rooting

Yesterday was as perfect a day that March is liable to offer up so I was back out and under Deckzilla completing my anti-rabbit campaign. I thought the ground was thawed out so I could dig the requisite trenches to embed the chicken wire behind the lattice work the rabbits had been gnawing on. While I got the project completed, it was not without its lowlights. I blithely ignored my Favorite Son when he declared I shouldn’t be crawling around under the deck at my age (talk about waving the proverbial red flag in a bull’s face). It turns out he was right. At some point I’ve got to recalibrate the mind to match my body’s capabilities. I think they’re about twenty years apart at this point.

Wife Swinging with BR3 on Saturday

I was also right. The ground had thawed, for about two inches. It did seem moderately vulnerable though, so I employed one of my favorite tools of ignorance – a pick axe. I was able to chip out the needed channel beneath the latticework although some of my Favorite Panamanian’s flowerpots paid a price. Then came the crawling as the last part required I install the wire from underneath. I also had to evict any rabbits that my efforts hadn’t convinced to leave. I crawled as far under the deck as I could with a flashlight and pole. Crawling under the deck reminded of a college activity that was best left in the memory book.

Trench Dug, Wire About to go Behind the Lattice

Wife Caught me When I was about Half as Muddy as I ended Up

I had a semi-psychotic roommate in my college fraternity who loved what we called “rooting” which he defined as rolling around in the mud for no other reason than it felt good. He would also yell from the window to passersby that we had him chained to a radiator, but I digress. Yesterday’s sojourn under the deck certainly qualified as “rooting”. That top two inches of thawed out soil made for a really fine mud that was helpfully very cold as well. It turns out cold mud coating your body can sap energy (of course that just might be age related as well). I had to crawl out from under the deck three times to clear a jammed staple gun because, well, mud gets everywhere; a lesson learned from my days in the infantry.

Finished Product

By the end of the day (literally – the sun was setting), I buried the last trench and declared victory. I did so in a small voice though as my wife had seen the inroads I’d made on the flower pots. As I was as dirty as I’d ever been coming in from a field exercise during my aforementioned infantry time we reverted to one of the standard operating procedures from that time. I would come home with two weeks’ worth of sweat, dirt, camouflage, and some other, less savory, substances coating my body and uniform. My wife would not permit me to enter “her” pristine house in that condition. In warmer climates she would hose me down in the driveway with the garden hose. In other situations, I was forced to disrobe in the garage and then hose down the dirty uniforms. That was what we went with yesterday as I stood at the rear door of the garage in my underwear hosing down the well rooted out clothes I’d worn. Hopefully the neighbors stayed safely out of eye shot. If nothing else, I confirmed my rooting days were best left to the fraternity back yard and the infantry – definitely a young man’s endeavor.

BR3 Flashing the Baby Blues

As to be expected, my wife also had her camera working overtime this past weekend up in New Hampshire and provided these additional shots of a splendiferous weekend with my son’s family. Not to be outdone, the FBR also insisted on taking a couple pictures of her during out Facetime calls.

ABFA Providing Some Driving Lessons

And She's Off!

BR3 Wanting to Go Outside to Help Dad and Grandpa with Firepit

BRS and Hojaldras - Matich Made in Heaven

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RECURRING CHARACTERS                                           

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