Spiders and Shakes

Wife's Garden In Full Bloom

Yesterday was supposed to be a day of rest and reflection.  More so on the rest part as my wife departed home base early in the day to execute a raid on a Macy’s special.  While she was out I received a call from the realtor to set up the first viewing of the house which will happen today.  I knew this would send the wife into paroxysms of cleaning so I got a head start on that with some outdoor work.

At least I was able to partake of the tropical humidity and heat before it departed the realm.  Buddy assisted with squirrel over watch.  We dodged most of the significant thunderstorms that signaled the end of the heat wave much to the delight of a certain black lab.  My wife returned was singularly complacent about the news of strangers inspecting her house.  Could it be that she finally realizes she keeps this place in pristine condition routinely? Nah, she immediately started cleaning and cutting flowers to place around the house.

She ran into the house breathlessly and in a near panic to report a large spider had taken up residence in her garden.  She demanded I immediately evict the intruder.  I went out to investigate and it was a pretty good sized spider.  It reminded me of the night land navigation course back at Fort Benning when I first joined the Army.  This was obviously way before GPS so we were given a compass and told to follow the compass through the woods to predetermined points without using a flashlight.  This led to a nights of walking face first through spider webs for which Fort Benning is justifiably famous.  After reaching the final point and returning to lighted civilization you’d always find a few spiders hitchhiking on your body, the most common was the kind my wife found.  Which brings us back to her garden yesterday.

The Spider my Wife Found

Since I recognized his denizen as a former comrade in arms (more so back of the neck) I decided to move it instead of terminating.  This led to the semi-comical passage across the backyard with a pissed off spider crawling towards me on what turned out to be an all too small stick.  Three rotations of the stick and some real pep in my step saw the old comrade safely ensconced in his new home.

Buddy In Couch Potato Position 1 After his Squirrel Battles

My arachnid encounter was not the only Army memory we indulged in yesterday. I took my wife to Maxwell Silverman’s in Worcester for dinner and dancing which turned out to be one of those nights where we both were ready to let out some steam on the dance floor.  Every now and then life permits a small window where you can recapture some of the magic of youth.  It helped that the rest of the crowd at Maxwell’s was around our age.  We rarely left the dance floor all night and the music was right in our wheel house.  It brought back memories of the Albrook Officer’s Club Friday night dances, where we met in 1981.  While the spirit was certainly willing I’m sure the dance moves were a little less “robust” than thirty three years ago. 

Walking into Maxwell's

My knee started barking at me around 11 but there was no way I was going to complain or lose this connection to my long lost youth.  We danced until 1am and were drenched in perspiration, yet another reminder of dancing in Panama.  A lady came over to talk with my wife as we were getting ready to leave.  She said we were the best dancers on the floor, especially my wife (small declaration of immense understatement).  She had to come over to find out if we were married because we looked so “in tune” with each other. It was nice to hear that maybe some of that magic of our younger days was apparent to others, almost as much as it was to us.

Okay, I Was Inspired by my Date

Getting out to the car was an interesting proposition as the middle aged muscles decided to comment eloquently on their over employment.  We’ll get to discover better living through ibuprofen today as we get ready for the strangers.  They’re scheduled to get here at 4:30 and we have to vacate the premises, which kind of sucks since this is NFL kickoff Sunday.  The Patriots better finish off the Dolphins before I have to abandon Couch Potato Position 1.

Reacher for Finish Lines

I need to ask the question why I still have the air conditioning on while living in the dreaded Worcester Hills in September.  I guess Someone misplaced the August heat waves that never arrived and is trying to sneak them into September.  That is patently unfair as we are supposed to be moving into my favorite time of year – autumn in New England.  A strong line of thunderstorms are headed our way this afternoon (bad news for my psychotic dog) which supposedly will break up the heat and humidity.

Excellent Boss and Coworkers at Brew City Yesterday

The heat was unable to dent my First Friday celebrations yesterday.  My wife ominously linked up with a member of the Worcester Chapter of the Panamanian mafia to explore exotic shopping venues in Eastern Massachusetts.  This led to an appropriate level of prayer on my part.  I continuing my genuflections at Brew City with my excellent boss along with various and sundry co-workers.  I really needed some taste of the brewer’s art after my humiliating first foray into fantasy football.  I invited the wife to stop by on her way home from her shopping depredations but for some reason she preferred her yoga class to swilling beer with my cronies and I(go figure).

The Mafia at Zorba's

I had my subsequent nap in Couch Potato Position #1 rudely interrupted by the yogacized wife informing me we were meeting members of the mafia at Zorba’s.  Since this is always a huge amount of fun I forgot to object to the crashing of our weekly date.  The mafia lived up to their reputations (as did the pizza) as we had too much fun to adequately describe here.  We paid homage to our new daughter in law, the ABFA, by stopping by Ronnie’s for ice cream on our way home. The week’s finish line was supremely serviced by yesterday’s activities but our decision to maintain our respective diets were definitely moved to the MIA list.

My Nephew's Graduation Yesterday Surrounded by Proud Parents

Speaking of finish lines my nephew (and namesake) graduated from his post-secondary schooling yesterday and is now an official mechanic.  I’m proud of his drive and commitment to his new career.  He’s got a couple interviews for employment and if Facebook is to be believed already has at least one job offer.  He’s good people and I’m excited for him as he embarks on this new chapter in his life.  Well done sir!

I also reached the finish line with the latest Jack Reacher book, Personal.  Lee Child has my favorite literary hero drawn back into the semi-respectable world instead of his usual vagabond lifestyle.  To repay an old debt he’s volunteered to lead an investigation into a sniper operating in Paris and then London.  He’s teamed up with a young CIA operative who learns more tradecraft in the few days she’s hanging out with Jack than she could at any “farm”. 

As with all of Reacher’s cases there are wheels within wheels and I couldn’t put the book down.  The reading consisted of my normal all out 2-day sprint to find out what Jack would do next.  I’m almost exhausted when I finish a Reacher book because they’re so damned good I’m obsessed.  This leads to sore necks and legs that go to sleep in inappropriate locations as the reading consumes me on a very basic level.  On the up side I got a lot more exercise since I read on the stationary bike as well.

Fantasized Nightmare

So last night was my first NFL football game while involved with a fantasy football league.  Predictably I got my ass handed to me by that bottomless well of football knowledge – my daughter.  She’s been doing this for a few years now and it certainly showed last night when her players kicked the tar out of mine.  She even sent a taunting text to my wife and I before the game.  I now understand the reason for her confidence as she thoroughly schooled this rookie.

My Tormentor Plotting Her Next Move

I also understand now why the NFL absolutely loves fantasy football.  I watched and was actually concerned about what was happening in a game I could not have cared less about.  That my daughter is an actual football fan now is prime evidence to understand what a sea change and boon for the league this is.  It’s also kind of fun.  Probably even more so if I wasn’t getting my butt kicked by someone I changed diapers on.  She’s been mysteriously benevolent since my thrashing but I’m sure there are several pointed remarks percolating in Brooklyn as I write this.

The biggest challenge of the night was trying to explain fantasy football to my teammate – the wife.  She couldn’t grasp the concept of why we were rooting for only one player on one team and against another.  Of course it’s hard to comprehend new facts when you’re texting, carrying on two simultaneous phone conversations, and supervising a recalcitrant husband.  She’s usually very adept at multi-tasking but she gave up on the game (but not the other activities) at half time. 

I guess my only hope is the remaining players on our team stage some sort of miraculous comeback on Sunday.  At least I have the First Friday of the Week celebrations to assuage the pain of last night.  Oh, and to make the night complete the Yankees hit two home runs in the bottom of the ninth to beat the Sox (but I’m not complaining!).  Bartender, one Coors light draft please and keep ‘em coming!

Retired Reality and Married Assassins

I had an interesting exchange with a retired employee yesterday.  He was seeking to return as a part time driver and learned that I blocked his hiring.  He felt hurt and said he always thought we had a good relationship.  He requested a face to face meeting to discuss my decision.  He was a good employee when he was here but took multiple opportunities to avail himself of the People’s Republic of Taxachusetts liberal Workmen’s Comp benefits.

He and I had a very frank discussion about his proclivities and the fact the company has a huge problem with employees routinely abusing the Workmen’s Comp benefits.  I told him that this had real costs for the company with increased premiums and since he was a poster child for the abusers I couldn’t justify bringing him back.  He claimed to appreciate my honesty and pledged not to be a problem if I brought him back.  I wished him well on his retirement.

Fairly quiet day on the home front; Buddy tried his hand (paw) at helping me mow the lawn.  He was in charge of squirrel security.  My sister called to inquire about radon levels.  She teamed up with my wife to attack my credibility on the issue.  Why do women always seem to agree that I need intense supervision?  My son called to insure all the football fantasy rookies understood the first game is tonight and what that means.  He also bemoaned the property tax situation in New Hampshire where he and the ABFA are house hunting, sobering when the monthly tax may be more than the mortgage payment.

I’m not the only one struggling with marital supervision issues.  I finished my latest Vince Flynn book, Executive Action.  His hero, Mitch Rapp, is newly married and adjusting to killing terrorists while having to explain the odd bullet wound in his butt to his new bride.  She handled it about as well as my own wife would so I can understand and sympathize with the deadly Mr. Rapp having the deal with issues outside his experience.

While the politics in the book were a little dated since they revolved around the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the action was up to Flynn’s usual standard.  In other words I truly enjoyed yet another romp through Rapp’s world as he dealt death and destruction from the Philippines to the Middle East.  I immediately bought the next book in the series upon finishing.  I was delighted to find the newest Jack Reacher book had been loaded onto my Kindle in the past few days.  Mitch will have to wait a few days while I conduct my usual scorched earth read through Lee Child’s latest Reacher novel.

Troubling Waters

This is the first house I’ve ever lived in that receives its water from a private well.  Up until yesterday I thought my only responsibilities were replenishing the salt pellets when they ran low and every other year replacing the reverse osmosis filters.  Unbeknownst to me there is also a filter that removes radon from the water.  When I innocently called the water company to get the system serviced since we’re trying to sell the house the sales lady reacted with aghast when I told her I didn’t even know about the radon filter.  They said it was last serviced in 2004 and should have been changed back in 2006.  I bought the house in 2005 and this “very important procedure” was never identified.  My exercise bike is right next to the water system so apparently I’ve been exercising next to a “highly radioactive” device for the past couple years.

Water Dude in the House Yesterday at Ground Zero

So the water people were in the house yesterday and after talking to the sales lady I thought they’d be showing up in level 4 HAZMAT gear. Instead, two plumber like dudes, complete with low riding pants, showed up to replace filters and provide the needed tutorial.  I innocently asked them if it was so important to replace this filter every couple years why that wasn’t posted on the outside of the device.  The blank stares I received were answer enough.  They disconnected the device and said it had to sit for a few months for the radiation levels to naturally dissipate.  That led to a discussion on where this dissipation was supposed to take place because they weren’t moving anything.  They assured me that there was absolutely no danger and I was not going to be growing a third eye anytime soon.  I asked that they speak with their sales lady about her bedside manner.

My Wife Ready for the Challenge

In other aquatic news my wife took advantage of yesterday’s tropical weather to complete the ice bucket challenge.  If anyone wants to know what living in the tropics is like, yesterday’s weather is a perfect example, hot with oppressive humidity that culminates in a real gutter washing rain storm in the afternoon followed by even more humidity as the sun comes back out on the saturated environment.  My wife took advantage of this Panama like weather and carefully rehearsed her speech.  She said afterwards that she planned on doing the same thing I’d done by not reacting to how cold the water was. 

And After

Then she experienced the ice water which robbed her instantaneously of any resolve in that regard.  She ran shrieking onto the deck which was almost as funny as it was charming.  I’m impressed because I know this was a lot harder for her than it was for me; a lot of iron in that lady.

Date night called for a movie (if you can imagine that) and we saw The November Man.  Pierce Brosnan has made a late career out of playing retired spies after getting booted from his 007 gig.  He’s back again as an ex-CIA operative who gets pulled back into the business where he has to confront old friends and a lethal protégé he trained.

The movie had a lot of well-choreographed action as Brosnan kills his way from Moscow to Belgrade while romancing a couple of Russian beauties along the way.  I did have some problems with the editing which jumped around a little too much.  Red herrings are fine but only in moderation.  The plot couldn’t decide what the real story was:  the confrontation or the underlying mission to discredit the Russian politician or rescue the damsel(s) in distress.  When a movie tries to be everything to everybody it will fail due to its two hour life span.  All that being said the action and Brosnan lift this flick into the eminently watchable level; just suspend your disbelief upon entering.

Chapter Turns

It is barely conceivable that we’re already a couple days into September.  Mother Nature is also confused as she’s still (or finally) pumping in some hot summer weather.  When I should be turning the AC off, I’m now happy it’s still on.

My Wife Giving Hojaldra Lessons to the ABFA

You all know what I’m going to say today about yesterday; one of those valley days after prancing about the peaks all weekend.  The Keene Friend deserted us in the very early morning as has become his wont.  The rest of the crew stumbled downstairs throughout the morning knowing this was the last day we’d all be together.  I think the term is “bittersweet”.

The ABFA signed up for lessons on the making of hojaldras from her mother in law.  Her husband, our son, a well-known connoisseur of that breakfast food beamed with anticipation.  Buddy finally itched a little too strenuously one last time and I was directed to the back deck to administer a bath (him not me, although the wife was giving the hose a considering look when I finished with thte dog).  Buddy was less than pleased to be exiled from the magic room (kitchen) when food was in play.

Moist Buddy Begging for Re-Entry

The ladies came out onto the deck to admire his courage and enjoy the brilliant morning descending upon us.  It was a day of looking to the future as my son and the ABFA sat in the family room perusing potential homes their real estate agent sent to them.  They planned on checking several out as they made their way home to Portsmouth.  As we walked them out to their car I wished them luck in their search and the ABFA directed me to not allow anyone to see our house.  She loves our house and is not a huge fan of our decision to sell.

Daughter, Wife and ABFA Enjoying the Morning on the Deck

As we made our way back up the hill we sat down on the front porch with our daughter and eventually the Wing Man.  They revealed that with our son’s wedding safely downrange they were now planning on following through with their planned move to the west coast.  At the same time I want to wrap them both up and keep them close I know this is where their future lies.  They want to start a family and will not do that in New York City.  We’re looking into frequent flyer plans for flights to L.A.  I did say bittersweet, didn’t I?

The ABFA and Son Search

The remainder of the day had the “kids” playing board games while Buddy tried to dry off.  Once again, that constant thrum of activity and laughter was so welcome in our usually quiet home.  The last piece of the day was spent subjecting ourselves to Labor Day traffic in Connecticut. 

I honestly believe that traffic hell hole was reacting to our recent spate of success moving through the length of the state.  There was literally a platoon of state police deployed along our path as well as the usual phalanx of slow New Jersey drivers in the left lane.  I was more than willing to take my time since I knew I had to leave my precious cargo.  My daughter made excellent use of her new app which pinpointed police locations and we safely and semi-legally arrived in New Haven with time to spare. 

I didn’t want to even look back when my daughter, Wing Man, and their friend hurriedly grabbed their bags while I double-parked in front of the train station. While I do this all the time it still hasn’t gotten any easier and I realized that this was an endangered act based on their left coast plans; yep, deep in the valley at that point.  Forewarned about the police presence the trip back was quiet except for the times my wife and I reflected back on a weekend exceedingly well spent.

Draft House

I finally succumbed to the overwhelming wave of popularity that is fantasy football.  I’ve assiduously avoided taking part in this craze as it swirled around the edges of my attention.  Anything that can make a football fan out of my daughter though should not be underestimated.  My son came up with the idea of a family fantasy football league in an attempt to drag the older family members into the 21^st century of football fandom.  He volunteered to be the league commissioner and went through all the machinations to get it set up in the electromagnetic spectrum.

Wife and ABFA Preparing the Food

The best part about this whole dubious endeavor was the gathering yesterday for the draft.  If taking part in fantasy football is the price I have to pay to have a day like yesterday when most of the important people in my life gathered it is more than worth the effort; and then some.  The league will consist of my wife and I, my son, daughter, wingman, ABFA*, the ABFA’s parents, Keene Friend and my sister/brother in law.

The Draft Room

My Wife Didn't Completely Immerse Herself in the Experience
Exhausted From Her Usual Amazing Food Prep

We’d all arrived at more or less the time agreed upon and my wife prepared a remarkable spread of food before we demonstrated our football acumen (or lack thereof).  The planned use of the big TV as a draft board was shelved and we used the draft board Wing Man spent all of Saturday preparing which turned out to be a godsend for us rookies.  It was a lot more fun than I anticipated but anytime I’m with this group of people – fun is sure to follow. I let my wife announce our team’s draft picks since she had no clue who the players were.

The Commish Laying Down the Law

It was fun to see how excited the younger generation was to drag their older counterparts into the game.  We celebrated the end of the draft by surprising the ABFA’s mother with a birthday cake and ice cream.  Then fortune smiled upon us as my son received notice that the official wedding photographer had posted the pictures from the wedding onto a web site for review.  We hooked the computer up to the big screen and spent the next couple hours going through nearly a thousand memories of that fabulous day.

The Photographer Caught the Moment My Son First Saw His Bride

Since everybody had been there it was fun to recognize a moment and then relive it with people who shared in the feeling from that day.  It soon became evident that one of my son’s groomsmen, a Navy doctor (or so he claims) was “three sheets to the wind” for most of the day.  He successfully photo bombed every phase of both the ceremony and the reception.  His exploits from that day are fast becoming legendary and this photographic evidence will support that infamy. 

The "Navy Doctor" and My Brother in Law

This trip through the wedding nostalgia had some immediate benefits as my daughter then came down wearing her wedding dress from five years ago.  It was a real "Friends" moment and she looked even more radiant than I remembered if that is even possible.  Good memories have a way of self-propagation.

Mother and Daughter in Wedding Throwback

The best part of this entirely special day was having the house full and an almost constant drum beat of noise and laughter.  It reminded us how perfect this house is for entertaining.  If we could keep it this well stocked with remarkable people we wouldn't even consider selling. 

*ABFA – we decided my daughter in law deserved added importance on her blog name – she is now the Amazing Best Family Athlete