Some kind of crazy front is blowing through this evening, sending the temperatures down from an agreeable 65˚to somewhere in the low 30s. What the hell, man? Just when I was thinking I could leave my winter coat on the rack. We went from having the windows open to shutting the storms down to keep the heat inside. Oh, well.
Grandma and Renie are coming down this weekend to visit, which has us running around cleaning the house in preparation. It will be great to see them for the first time since Christmas, and I know Grandma is probably levitating off the floor with excitement. Hopefully the weather will warm back up so they don’t have to suffer a wet March weekend in Maryland.
The CR-V is at the shop with new ceramic brake pads waiting to be picked up tomorrow morning; I bought rotors and pads last weekend with the intention of changing them, but when I got the grindy side up on the jack, I couldn’t get the caliper to release the rotor. Instead of bashing it with a BFH, I wisely decided on calling in the pros, and they got it done today, no muss, no fuss. Certain things I’m willing to take on myself, but any monkey business with important systems like brakes I’ll happily farm out.
I kegged my latest batch of IPA, called Sinistral Warrior, on Sunday, and it’s carbing in the cooler this week. I’ve pulled two glasses from it so far, and it’s tasty–and strong. I have to remember to throttle back my intake because it tends to hit me rather quickly. Next up is getting some time to bottle the pumpkin, which has been sitting patiently since the end of December, and ordering a session IPA from Northern Brewer for the next batch. I also cut my 4″ shank down to 3″ last weekend. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be–maybe 5 seconds with a metal blade on the miter saw, and 2 minutes with a file to clean up the threads. Now, when I install tap handles in the front of the kegerator, the tubing and inlets won’t be in the way. Half the fun of owning a kegerator seems to be hose management.
I haven’t looked at Facebook in about two weeks. I popped on there this evening to answer a question (I get alerts in my mailbox, but rarely respond to them) and lost a half an hour; nothing much has changed. I talked about creating more and consuming less at the beginning of this year, and haven’t done much to change that yet. I could come up with lots of reasons why, but the truth is I just haven’t.
I have a lot of things to work on this spring; that is only one of them, and the least important.
We’re back from New York State from my cousin Jenny’s wedding and it felt good to sleep in my own bed again. Thursday was consumed mostly by travel. Friday we caught up with Mom, Dad, and Renie, and that evening we all gathered at a house on the lake for the pregame party with family who were already in town. The festivities went long into the night, although I bailed out an hour earlier than the diehards. Saturday morning I was drafted to get up early and help set up the tent (all that college catering experience came in handy) and between about six of us we had the venue ready to go by 11AM.
Jenny got hitched in a vibrant green field next to a stand of corn, which provided a lovely backdrop for the ceremony. It was presided over by Uncle Brian, who did his best not to get weepy. When the vows were over we hit the bar and the party was on.
Any good wedding has food, dancing, and cake, and the best ones have fireworks.
…Felt more like three days. With preparation for the parade party on Wednesday, my first vacation day felt more like a triathlon, and there’s absolutely nothing interesting to report about that. Thursday was a great day with friends and food and parade and fun. This year we had the largest turnout yet, around 100 people, give or take a score of kids. The weather was hot and steamy as usual, and with all of the water toys and sprinkler and mister set up, the side yard was a bog by the end of the day. My homebrew went over well, even though the IPA was foaming, and my plan to scale food offerings back to hot dogs meant I spent less time at the grill and more time catching up with friends.
After the parade, and as the crowd thinned out, everybody pitched in and broke down the tents, washed dishes, and generally cleaned up with us, which was VERY appreciated; by about 6PM I was absolutely spent. We rallied long enough to make it to the front yard where a tremendous privately funded fireworks collection was being lit off across the street, which meant we didn’t feel obligated to stagger down to the high school for the official community display.
Friday was all about recovery and rest. We farted around the house and cleaned up a little bit, and crashed the neighbors’ pool, but mainly napped and puttered. That evening we’d been invited to a neighborhood happy hour, so I made some guacamole to bring, packed up some leftover bottles of beer, and we walked a few blocks over to the party. The hosts were wonderful, we met a lot of new people, and Finn had a ball with a gaggle of kids her age. When it got too dark to see other faces clearly, my neighbor and I walked the girls home—under constant threat of attack by werewolves. I think we were all asleep by 10:30.
Saturday Aunt Renie was in town with her friend Wendy, so we got ourselves purtied up and drove in to town to meet them at Clementine, where we caught up, drank Bloodys, and ate like royalty. The ladies followed us back home to the A/C where we hung out and relaxed, talked, and played games with Finn. All too quickly they had to leave for a lacrosse game, so we said goodbye and tried to figure out what to do with the rest of our day. The consensus was fooling around, giggling, looking at baby pictures on my phone, and not moving from the couch.
Sunday the girls were up and out quickly to meet with some friends on vacation in Virginia, while I stayed home to catch up on some projects. What I thought would take a few hours consumed most of the day, but luckily I was inside in the A/C and there were leftover cupcakes and beer.
I had a total of five days off, but as with all vacation time, it slips through my fingers too easily. I did get to spend a lot of quality time with my girls, which makes me happy, but I’d love to have another couple to recover more.
Monday morning I dropped Grandma off at the airport and watched as she rolled her bag inside the Departure terminal and out of sight. She flew in last week to help watch Finn while Mama was out of town, and as always the visit was too short but a lot of fun. Poor Finn was sick for most of last week, so she spent most of Thursday and Friday on the couch, which made Grandma’s job easier. Saturday we got up early and spent the morning cruising the neighborhood looking through yard sales, where I found Finn a beach chair, a boogie board, and a 10-gallon aquarium for fish we don’t have yet. Grandma found her a pair of footie pajamas and a great kids’ cookbook.
It was 70° and sunny, so we spent as much of the day outside as possible. Finn dug in her sandbox while I chased the mower around the yard and got some other outdoor chores done. In the evening, we barbecued dinner and then took a drive in the Scout down to Opie’s for some ice cream, where we watched the sun set and made some new friends.
Sunday was another laid-back day; while I went out and hosted the Scout meetup, Mom and Finn walked downtown to the farmers’ market together until I got back. The day was chilly even though the sun eventually came out, so we stayed inside and read books and played together until bedtime.
I always get bummed out when family leaves (or I leave family) and Monday was no exception, made worse by the lousy weather we’re having here. I’m glad that Grandma got to go back to sunny 80° and a glass-smooth lake.
We got word early last week that Howard, my sister’s best friend for fifteen years, had passed suddenly and without much warning. I shuffled some things around and hit the road Thursday evening to make his funeral mass Friday morning. From what I’m told the viewing was packed with friends, and the mass was no exception. At one point the priest in charge of the service leaned in to ask the older gentleman sitting next to me (one of the elders) if someone could go locate enough host to use for communion.
Renie had written a eulogy for Howard, and it was funny, touching, authentic, and moving. I was proud of both her words and her poise.
After the service, we drove over to the firehouse, where the reception was being held, and found ourselves sitting with several of Howard’s friends from Ithaca. I struck up a conversation with the gentleman sitting next to me, who mentioned he was from Thailand, and we started talking about travel and food. Within a half an hour he was inviting the family to come and eat at his restaurant (one of Howard’s favorite haunts) and we made plans.
At the table, he set us up with four glasses of Proseco, and things got progressively better from there. Starting with two types of Thai soup (Tom Kha and Tom Yung), we worked our way through four appetizers, stopped for a bottle of red wine, and then worked through five (!) entrees. The restaurant is pan-Asian, so the menu ranges from Thai to Indian, and the mixture of curry, lemongrass, and chili powder was outstanding together. After our entrees, he insisted we try the dessert menu, but not before a glass of grappa or Yuzo (lemon infused sake) to clear our palates. We wound up sitting for four hours enjoying the time together, raising a glass to Howard, and savoring every bite.
Saturday it just so happened there was a party planned for Grampy, who turns 98 this year, so I decided to stick around and celebrate with everyone. He just got moved back into his house from my uncle’s, and a couple of cousins spent the last few weeks painting and cleaning and getting things ready for him. He’s now installed in the middle room (the family room from my younger days) with a palace-sized chair and a hospital bed in front of a flat screen TV. He looks better than I’ve seen him in years, and I could see the spark in his eyes the whole time I was there.
Being able to visit with everyone was great, and once again I ate way too much.
Sunday morning I hit the road and made it back to Baltimore by 3, just in time to sharpen the mower blade and attack the lawn while Finn played on the swing. Jen got the rear bed weeded, and after some work with the edger the house doesn’t look like it’s been foreclosed upon anymore.
We got word yesterday that Jen’s aunt Mary passed after a long battle with cancer. Mary was a kind lady, and seemed to always be smiling every time I saw her. Mama and Finn are going to saddle up and head north to Ohio to pay their respects while I hold the fort down here.
A long time ago, before Finn was born, Jen and I had a Sam’s Club membership. We bought in bulk, and life was good. Eventually, we soured on the idea of fattening Wal-Mart’s coffers any further, so we let the membership lapse. Since then, a Costco opened up in Columbia close to our organic market, so we decided to pull the trigger and join for easy access to pallet-sized containers of peanut butter and ice cream.
Saturday morning, we split a membership with Jen’s sister and brother in law, and started browsing the aisles. It’s hard not to be overwhelmed by all the choices, especially when shopping without a list. We split up to cover ground quicker, and while Jen and I puttered through the pharmacy section, an employee with a walkie-talkie came up to us and asked if we were Finley’s parents. My heart dropped as he told us she’d fallen out of a cart and they needed us to come with him. We followed the employee, and when we turned the corner and saw two little legs laying on the floor under a knot of people, I went cold. Luckily, her aunt kept her from moving after she fell. She looked up at us with big, scared blue eyes while the Costco guy called 911.
The Howard County EMS guys were there within minutes, and they quickly assessed her condition, making sure she could wiggle fingers and toes, that she hadn’t lost consciousness, and that she knew who and where she was. They offered a ride in the bus or gave us the option of driving her ourselves (they decided they weren’t going to put her on the backboard), so we gently put her in her carseat and hauled ass to the hospital.
She was sleepy in the car after the adrenaline wore off, but it was when we stood her up on the triage scale that she threw up for the first time (she covered us all pretty equally) so they hustled her right into the ER and got her set up for a CAT scan. After the pictures came back (and two more barfings) they told us they were going to fly her to Hopkins for specialized neurological care. After what seemed like only minutes, the flight EMTs arrived and we got strapped into the helicopter. They sat me up front with the pilot while she was in back on the gurney, and after a quick preflight, we were in the air. Halfway to Hopkins (somewhere over the I-95 corridor) the EMTs came on the intercom and told me she was laughing, asking questions, and enjoying the flight.
The pilot set us down expertly on the roof and when they opened the clamshell doors to slide her out, she said, “Wheee!” They wheeled us over hill and dale through the building until we came to the Pediatric ER, where several wonderful nurses got her ready for another CAT scan. The results came back as we expected: a epidural hematoma on the left side. We waited for the neuro team to take a look at the pictures and there was good news: no surgery was needed. But they wanted to keep her under observation to make sure the bleeding was stopping, so they admitted her upstairs to the PICU.
The PICU is like every kid’s dream bedroom: A bed that moves in fifteen directions, a TV on an arm that hangs directly in front of your face, a bathroom of your own, and a bunch of awesome nurses who take better care of you than a presidential valet. Once we got settled in, she laid quietly through a movie marathon until I turned off the TV at 11. The overnight was a long one for everybody. They woke her every two hours for standard neuro tests while Mama and I attempted to sleep on convertible furniture under as many blankets as we could manage.
Today was more testing. The morning CAT scan showed pretty much the same picture as yesterday evening’s, but Finn was perked up and alert. I ran home to get supplies and take care of the cat while Mama sat with Finn. When I got back, Grand was by her bedside with Aunt Christi and Uncle Glenn. We spent the afternoon by her bed fielding get-well messages from friends and family; she even got a bedside visit from Mr. Torbjorn and Pastor Dorothy!
Now we’re settled in for the evening. She’s watching Tangled on her cool TV while Mama and I enjoy a little downtime. Our sincere and heartfelt thanks to everyone who has sent along love and support. It is true what they say; the worst circumstances bring out the best in people and remind us all how blessed we really are.
