On the merits of recreation

Rick is a classic over-commiter. For the 20 years or so I've known him, he's always had half a dozen things going on the side, whether it be painting a car for a friend or building a set of cabinets for a kitchen re-model. Even when he was out of the country, doing temporary duty in Greece for 6 weeks, he took along materials to build me a beautiful dresser-style jewelery box in his spare time. And for years he had "disciples" who would show up in the driveway each weekend to work on their vehicles and benefit from his guidance.


But in the last several years, he's been working too hard. He turned the various decks and cabinetry work into a part-time business, and spent all his spare time pushing to finish this project or that one. I've tried to distract him at times for the sake of his own sanity, encouraging him to go to a race or putter with a project of his own. But most of the time he has put himself under too much pressure and feels the need to keep slaving on the crisis of the moment.


Back when the kids were little, Rick was bit by the RC aircraft bug. He had a wonderful time designing and building a plane for himself, before descovering that his creation was not particularly stable in the air and not suitable for a novice flyer. And then he bought a trainer aircraft and found a friend with a "buddy box" who could link up two different radios, allowing one person to take control in an emergency while the other was learning to fly. But that was back in Savannah, and when we moved away from the friend with the buddy box, the plane when on the shelf (and eventually out the door).


Anyway, it turns out that the gas station just down the highway from our house has a whole RC shop in the back, and the owner has arranged for a spot where RC aircraft can be flown on the weekend. This was enough to inspire Rick to buy a new kit and start construction on a new aircraft 4 or 5 years ago . . . but again, he got overcommitted in other directions, and the interest got put on the back shelf (along with his partially completed airplane).


Well, now it's his birthday. I have been nagging him again that birthday gift money should be spent on something you wouldn't normally buy for yourself, something special that will bring you joy. And for once, he took me seriously. He pulled his half-finished aircraft off the shelf, and went out and bought some stuff to finish it. He's started talking about how Jay from work has a buddy box, and maybe he can get back to the challenge of learning how to fly. He asked for a 4 channel control radio as his birthday gift from me and the kids, and then looked like a kid in a candy store when he actually got it.

Okay, so a few chores around the house might be delayed, and some income might be diverted. But it's high time that Rick did something just for the pure fun of it. He's excited and inspired. And I'm good with that.

Blue Day

Did you ever have one of those days where it's kind of a struggle to do what you're supposed to be doing? Where you feel kind of bummed out, but with no clear idea why? Where you keep losing your train of thought, and staring out the window, and all you really want to do is go hide somewhere away from the world with some mindless entertainment and a box of bonbons?

Yeah, I'm having one of those.

Futurity

The Dodge County Fair (and many others, I'm told) have a competition every year, where contenders pick out the best heifer calf they can find, register their choice, and raise it.

Once the animal has reached maturity, they show it at the fair and get judged on how well they estimated it's future potential.

Of course, in Dodge County they have the extra fun of having all the kids showing the animals dress up in formal wear, so aside from the grooming and relative conformation of the heifer, you can decide whether you like that blue sparkly dress better, or the the pink pouffy one.

Anyway, so it's my birthday. I have reached an age that I clearly recall being "old" when my parents claimed it. My left knee does something which my doc calls crepitus and I call percussion; but a friend cheerfully points out that at least I haven't progressed to syncopation.

When I was a kid in the 70's, I wanted to be a marine biologist, just like Belinda Montgomery in Man from Atlantis. In th e 80's I was going to be a career military member, just because they were so durned honest and direct and honorable and all. In the 90's I finally finished my business degree and was going to take over the business world, show everyone how brilliant I really was, and earn myself a fat salary and a corner office somewhere.

These days, I have a decent office with a window. I don't have a secretary anymore, and some days I even perform a couple of administrative functions for the greater good of the company. I'm not rich, and seem to have a gift for never having quite as much money available as I'd planned a use for. I vary from "chubby" to "really needing to do something about this." I don't know if I've lived up to my potential, per se. Anyone (including myself) who predicted great things for me might not be impressed with the reality.

But maybe I don't need to be the show-stopper. Life is good, and maybe it's okay to just be part of the herd.

Okay, here are the contenders.

Once again we were really pushing the daylight, and I think it shows a bit in the color of the images. But seriously, what do you think?

For My Next Trick . . .

I like doing portraits. Usually they're a lot of fun, and it's a chance to goof around with my camera and sometimes even get paid for it. And I've done quite a few sessions with Tasha, for confirmation or her birthday or whatever.

But now Lucas is a high school senior, and about to turn 18. Big events, which should be marked by a decent formal portrait. And I just can't seem to get one that reflects the right tone, has the right color, and generally satisfies me. Here's my first attempt:

Not bad. I like the color and the expression - but then I noticed the part where the refraction of his glasses makes a hole in his forehead. And so, I took him out to the park again last night to try again. I'll post those pictures shortly, but - what do you think? Am I being too picky?

It was wonderful

I couldn't have asked for better. The weather was perfect, the mosquitoes cooperated by staying away, Red the pig performed her role admirably, and everyone got along great.

Okay, now details:

Al Michales donated the use of his brand new stock trailer to pick up Red the pig from our neighbor's friend George, who raised her and then sold her to us at a really ridiculously low price. (I'd recommend George to anyone. Just ask me for his number.) Anyway, so there's this big red stock trailer in our yard, with a very nervous pig inside. Dan and Rick are pacing around because, obviously, we need the pig dead before we can roast her.

Dan has butchered his own sheep in the past and had figured doing a pig couldn't be too difficult. But he wanted an especially sharp knife of a particular shape, and somehow his weapon of choice didn't make it into his luggage when he left Maine. He started planning out what it would take to make one according to his design (by which impulse you can tell he has an engineering degree), but Rick went out and simply bought an appropriate blade (by which you can tell that he works with engineers).

Next, there was the question of shooting the pig. She was still in Al's brand new stock trailer, and obviously they didn't want to start shooting the trailer up. But we'd all been to the fair enough to know that if we let her out, she probably wouldn't just stand still and "smile for the camera." Finally someone had the idea of taking her over to Al's farm. He has stock fencing and all that already in place for his cattle, and he offered to let them process her there and bury the offal with his back hoe. (Have I mentioned how incredibly generous these people are?) I did not attend the actual event, because I am squeamish and have no interest in the details; but I understand that in spite of all their preparations, Red did indeed make a break for it, got through a gap in the stock fence, and turned a simple butcher job turned into a pig hunt. But things got sorted out in the end, more or less according to plan.

Meanwhile, the tent and tables had been delivered and set up, as well as the pig roaster and the port-a-john. Racer's Hall got us the two pony kegs at wholesale cost (Thank you!), and I hit-up my connections at the Port Washington Farmer's Market for rolls, flowers, and a big jar of Mango Jam for Dan (his favorite). Mom got there mid-morning, and I set her and Tasha to work sorting 3 bunches of flowers into vases for 9 tables.

The cousins got there about lunch time, which really got the party started early. It's hard not to feel festive when you've got a pile of little people bouncing around and looking excited. I feel so very honored that the whole Fremont Huisjen crew, plus the Worths & Gees, made the long trip around the lake just for our little gig. And Dale and Susie and their gang were on their way from Ypsilanti, but blew a radiator in central Michigan and had to limp on home again. (You were missed!)

By 3:00 or so all the relatives were on site, and there was a definite team of guys working on the pig. Lucas potted up some begonias in a half-round pot and hung it on the cross at the chapel, which added the perfect touch. Sybil was starting to fret about how many senior citizens would park their cars on her property and be taxied down to the chapel. And for comic relief, we all had a good time watching the toad that hopped into the tent and settled down to watch the show.

By 5:00 we had a pretty good crowd of 60 - 70, including kids. Gary H. was having a wonderful time directing cars and trying to collect parking fees, while a swarm of little kids swung on the rope and generally cavorted around the Grandmother Oak. We decided it was time to take our walk.

We wandered down the east path, with Rick and me hand in hand leading the way. (I had to drag him past the pig, which he thought he'd better check one more time.) Meanwhile, Sybil had loaded several elderly attendees in her car and was giving them the nickle tour as she drove down the west path to the chapel. She was in her glory, having so many people come to admire Meadow Valley, and I swear she was just glowing. But then again, I was in a pretty wonderful mood myself and it may have reflected on others.

RaeAnn did an absolutely wonderful job with the ceremony itself. There were vows, and stories about the early times in our marriage, and a recognition of the work as well as the joys of marriage. Sybil asked me later why Rick kept looking away from me during some of the "mushy" moments? I explained that he was right on the verge of crying the whole time and trying to hold it in.

That's about it. We kissed a bit, then walked back and had a party. There were plenty of potables (thanks, Dad!), an over-abundance of food, and a general atmosphere of pleasant camaraderie. The Kohler guys made a great showing, and after dinner hung out at the fire pit for quite a while. Several of Luc's and Tasha's friends came later in the evening and had a good time goofing around in the dark with the glow necklaces I'd stashed. Babies were cuddled, friends were hugged, and all was well.

A little help from my friends.

Al Michaels has volunteered the use of his farm and cattle trailer for the final hours of the pig - which will be much easier than trying to rig something up at our place. Tammy Michaels is making a cake, and bringing a vat of hot German potato salad (and a small batch of the vegetarian version for me). And Tammy actually planted an entire extra garden of corn so she could bring it to the party! (Okay, after our summer drought, the corn won't actually make it in time - but I'm in awe of the generosity and forethought.) I just had to give them a shout-out for all their help.


While cleaning the coop and burning trash yesterday - my labor on Labor Day - I had the inspiration to move the tent down to the back of the property, under the Grandmother Oak. I paced it off and am sure that we have a nice flat 40 x 30 space down there. That puts us a field's width closer to the path down to the Meadow Valley chapel, and puts us adjacent to the bonfire, and opens up the upper field for parking - which was going to be a major headache, with cars relegated to the lawns of several generous neighbors. The only catch will be electricity. We will have electric lights for the tent, and we'll need power for the Nesco roasters and coffee maker and entertainment stuff. I told Rick I wanted to move things down, and he threw up his hands at the thought of trying to get 50 amps of power down there. But I know my sweetie - he'll walk away grumbling, and then have a beautiful solution worked out two days later. :)


Meanwhile, Dan is on the train and should be here in 30 hours or so, and Alicia might just make it after all. And I've got table cloths and napkins and all that stuff staged and ready as soon as the tent & tables get here on Thursday. We've confirmed delivery of the port-a-john. I'll have to check with Rick to see when the roaster will be here. And apparently I need to pick up 8 bags of charcoal for the roaster, which somehow hadn't occurred to me. And 2 lbs of butter for the tables. And figure out what to do about salt & pepper - maybe just have a couple of them on the table by the food? And, and, and . . .


Okay, I'm going to just relax and think peaceful thoughts. It's all going to work out beautifully, because this is not a demanding group and we're all going to enjoy ourselves no matter what.