In the meanwhile, I went out and bought a new computer.
I've posted a long column here twice now and although my dashboard keeps assuring me that it's published, nothing ever shows up on the blog. I'm getting pissed.
In the meanwhile, I went out and bought a new computer.
0 Comments
I dreamed about zombies last night. Twice. In the first dream, I was with a group of survivors hiding in an office building while the world was overrun by the walking dead. Even in my sleep, I remember wondering what the point was; if we had no means of fighting and taking back the world, we were merely postponing the inevitable. In the second dream I was in charge of a compound to house survivors from the hordes of zombies roaming the land. I chose a fortress atop a hill, surrounded by a high wall with watchtowers manned by snipers 24/7. I had the hillside denuded 360 degrees so as to give the zombies no where to hide on any approach. Then I had the entire perimeter at the bottom of the hill surrounded by a thick, chain link fence to slow the zombies down, equipped with bells so we always knew when and where a breach was attempted and set large bonfires every 30 yds or so, to scare off the dead. By the end of the dream, we’d replaced the bonfires with a pipeline system that could spray flame where and when we needed it. It was far more energy efficient than continuous bonfires. That was my problem with the show The Walking Dead. The survivors were so flippin’ stupid. “Oh, no zombies are everywhere! Lets run into the woods where there’s plenty of cover for them and we’ll never see them coming until they sink their teeth into our necks!” I came up with a better plan than that in my sleep. So I quit watching after the first season. In The Walking Dead vs. The Brain Dead, I had no team to root for. But why zombies? Why now? Zombies have been as hot as vampires in entertainment for years now, why am I suddenly dreaming about them? I’m reading two books right now, the first is by a tenured University professor and it’s about the damage being done in the field of education due to political correctness in service to the diversity campaign and the hypocrisy and totalitarianism they actually promote as they wage war on Judeo/Christian values and in fact, all of western civilization. It’s called Welcome to the Ivory Tower of Babel. I mentioned that Prof. Mike Adams is tenured: if he hadn’t been, he surely would have been fired for writing any one of the emails, essays or columns reprinted in the book. University diversity suffers no opinion that doesn’t fit their orthodoxy. What does this have to do with zombies? I’m gettin’ to that. The second book is the memoir of the highest ranking Soviet officer to defect during the Cold War. Lt. General Ion Pecepa was the top spy chief in Romania before the collapse of the USSR. His book, Disinformation, describes the strategies and tactics used by the soviets to keep an iron grip on the people they ruled while simultaneously exporting totalitarianism to the West through established institutions and seemingly benign cover groups with innocuous names like The World Federation of Trade Unions that were really soviet established front organizations funded through Moscow. Their intent, according to the cover of the book is to undermine freedom, attack religion and promote terrorism. I had only gotten to the sixth chapter of Pacepa’s book when I realized Welcome to the Ivory Tower of Babel and Disinformation are the same story. Pacepa’s story describes where the seeds of these ideas and ideals originated and how they were planted while Adam’s book describes the ugly fruit of these noxious weeds. The agenda described in both books is identical: promote all things that destroy the individual, starting with religion, the family, the idea of personal excellence and all hope of achievement. Lump everyone into social groupings, so as to focus political power on groups as a way to keep individuals in line and above all, scapegoat the Jews. That’s the thing that communism, Nazism and Islamism have in common; hatred of the Chosen People. Does your local university employ affirmative action in their admittance procedures? Does it discriminate politically in it's hiring practices? Does it discourage Christian groups from participating in campus life? Does is celebrate diversity by promoting unhealthy lifestyles? Does it spend time and tax dollars on convincing subgroups (women, blacks, homosexuals) that society is out to get them and it’s much better to be the oppressor than the oppressed? Does it spend a lot of energy frightening its student population with nightmares of epic proportion in the name of the coming ice age, global warming, climate change? These are all ideas that originated in Soviet Moscow. So…What has this got to do with Zombies? The Soviet Union ‘died’ in 1989. The Berlin wall came down over twenty years ago. The cold war ended; the west won. But like Sauron, whose ring kept him tethered to this life and Voldemort, who left horcri behind, the soviet ideal is less ‘dead’ than it is ‘undead’. It lives and is rising all over the west. It lives and is pushed mercilessly on our college campuses, whether under the name of ‘diversity’, ‘the rape culture’ or ‘institutional racism’. Whether the professors and administrators pushing the agenda know they’re the cats paws of the Soviets is a moot point; there’s a reason the Soviets called them ‘useful idiots’. It has infiltrated our political institutions all the way to the highest office in the land. Our Justice Dept. could best be described as ‘capricious’, which is the hallmark of tyrannical government. Our Founders were trying to avoid exactly that when they wrote our Constitution, guaranteeing equality under the law. Our IRS has become the most feared, lawless enterprise in the nation, bound by no authority and answering to no one, persecuting anyone they see as a political threat with impunity. Our press gives cover to corruption with lies, deceit and white wash. The power of the government is being used to silence critics through civil suits, pretending that there’s no First Amendment issue when the government itself is not the plaintiff. How did this happen? Simple; the Cold warriors thought they had won. We went on with our lives, confident that the enemy was dead. But totalitarianism isn’t dead at all. It’s Undead and it’s ambulatory. You know how to kill a zombie? Fire won’t do it, sunlight won’t do it, a wooden stake through the heart won’t even slow it down. A silver bullet will only be effective if you aim properly; you have to take out the head. You must destroy the cranium, the brain, the intellect. The intellect of a nation resides in its educational system. Ours has been compromised for decades. In all fifty states, the teachers unions are hand in glove with the politicians. Our nation’s history has been perverted, our founders taught as nothing more than slave owners; subverted to where our rescuing the world from totalitarianism three times during the twentieth century is called ‘Imperialism’. Our kids aren’t being taught history or biology but by gum, they learn about bullying and recycling. Our colleges are teaching our kids that George Washington, the Indispensable Man, was not a leader at all but a malleable, stupid man and that Barack Obama, all evidence to the contrary, is smart and has their best interests at heart. The zombie apocalypse is upon us and we never saw it coming. A whole crew of us went downtown last Wednesday night to see a comedienne at the Women’s club. I’d been there before, several years ago for a party at Christmas time. It’s a beautiful old building on the edge of Loring park with huge windows overlooking the pond. It was a great place for a Christmas party.
I had no idea there was an auditorium down in the basement. I’d never heard of Tig Notaro but my sister is a fan and when she heard that Tig was coming to town, she sent Youtube clips along with the suggestion that we make a night of it. six of us met at Katie’s house for dinner before the show, including the fabulous Liz who came all the way in from the far western suburb of Ritzyville. I’m not saying that’s where the money is but the halls of the high school out that way has crystal chandeliers to light the hand carved mahogany lockers. I was out that way years ago when Tyler worked a basketball camp on the premises. I walked in and stopped dead in my tracks, certain that I had accidently wound up at a Byerly’s. The absence of a grand piano in the foyer is what convinced me I wasn’t at the grocery store. That paragraph will make no sense to anyone who doesn’t live in Minnesota but trust me; the natives get it. We had lots to celebrate; one of us had recently landed a job in her chosen field and another had gotten everything she wanted in a divorce settlement that could have been long, drawn out and messy but instead was quick and clean and another had been notified days earlier that a royalty check she’d given up on was on the way. Best of all, we hadn’t all been together in a year or so, so it was a good night before anything else even happened. After dinner, we took two cars downtown where Katie P was meeting us. Thanks to the miracle of technology, we were in constant cell phone contact with Katie P who, because she works downtown arrived early at the venue and found out where we could park for free. Katie P had been in Chicago the previous weekend. I asked her how it went and she said “It was great! I fell out a second story window!” “Were you very drunk and that’s how you fell to no apparent damage?” Her solicitous mother asked. “Pretty much!” she affirmed. “So you just went through and disappeared?” We asked her. “Yep.” “What did your friend do? Was she freaked out?” “She laughed really, really hard.” Katie explained. “So did I.” Seems she had been to a concert with friends, had used the ladies room at intermission so when her friend said she needed to use the facilities on their way out, Katie thought she knew the way but the door she confidently strode through the door to the ladies room it had somehow had been replaced by night air. She Wile E. Coyote’d and landed on a roof or something six feet below the door to nowhere. It’s a miracle she wasn’t hurt! That there was a second story door to nowhere left unlocked in a building during a public event is perplexing. They’re lucky a lawyer didn’t fall out! Oh wait… We were a little confused when we got inside because Katie had been told it was general admission. This was not true, which one look at our tickets would have told us. Not only did we have assigned seats but they were in three different rows on two far sides of the auditorium. We split up into groups and took our seats. Fran and I had to squeeze past a very fat couple who gave us both the stink eye even though there was plenty of room and the show wasn’t due to start for a half hour. After we were all seated, Katie did a bar run so those of us who weren’t driving could enjoy further beverages. The place filled up and it was pretty much the crowd you’d expect for a live NPR recording session. Lots of very interesting people with lots of piercings and unnaturally colored hair cut into severe styles. I guess they have to have aqua hair so you get just how interesting they are. I used to do stuff like that. For like a week. Then I realized I don’t want to be noticed by strangers. It’s annoying enough getting noticed by friends. This was definitely a crowd for whom ‘Diversity’ and ‘tolerance’ were the highest values. I’m glad they didn’t know a clutch of Catholic Republicans was in their midst; they’d have chased us out, throwing rocks. We mean you no harm, NPR people! The warm up act was some guy named Kjell who seemed to think he was funny based solely on his name. He would have been the seventh funniest person at dinner that evening. Then Tig came on. I’ve only been to see a few comedic performances in my life. I saw Gary Shandling at the Carleton Celebrity room back in the very early eighties. No one had heard of him yet but he was so funny that Jay and I were not surprised that he went on to be famous. Then in the early 90’s, we saw a comedy showcase starring three amusing guys and Louis Anderson, who was leaving for LA and stardom the following week. Tig Notaro was every bit as funny as Shandling and Anderson. Her delivery is squeaky clean and so dry as to be impossible to copy and I laughed until tears streamed down my face through her entire routine. Afterwards, Fran, MJ, Katie and Liz all bought cds and had their pictures taken with Tig at the merchandize table. We were some of the last fans to leave the building but even so, we were home by 10:30. It was a good night. Meloise VI
Q: After multiple washings, the collars of my husband’s polo shirts have gotten creased and won’t lie flat. Any advice on getting them to behave? A: Christ Almighty woman, get a job. You clearly have way too much time on your hands. Q: What’s the best way to remove dust from my air-vent covers? It can take hours. A: Seriously? That’s even stupider than the woman who didn’t know enough to vacuum her lamp shades. Same answer, though. Q: I love cuddling with my two cats but their fur gets all over my clothes and it’s a pain to remove—I never really get rid of it all. How can I prevent it from sticking to. A: You have the saddest life, ever. Q: I have an oak kitchen table sealed with polyurethane. Over the years, I’ve used all kinds of cleansers and now the top of the table is sticky. How can I remove the residue? A: Isn’t this just proof that obsessively cleaning is a waste of time? Your table would be just as sticky if you’d never wiped it off at all. Q: My refrigerator is next to my stove and I think it’s cooking that’s caused the side of the white fridge to turn a yellowish color. Any tips that’ll get rid of that tint? A: Refrigerator paint, duh! And don’t tell me it doesn’t exist; I am so sick of hearing that! I know you’re all wondering what TV shows I was watching while the blog was dark. I know y’all just can’t wait to hear about what old TV show that has already swept the nation and caught everyone’s fancy has finally made a blip on my radar. “Oh my God, you know what’s awesome? Sliced bread!” is my thing. What, so I’m totally out of the loop? I don’t care. Since the technology evolved, I’d much rather skip seasonal television and wait until I can watch entire seasons, or series at a time. I love it that way. I don’t remember everything I watched this summer but summertime isn’t the best time for TV anyway. Too much daylight, too much entertaining, too much being out having fun. Not enough time to lounge around staring at the boob toob. I hate summer. No, I don’t. I wish summer days were twice as long as they are! Then I‘d have time to keep up with TV. I managed to squeeze in two seasons of House of Cards. It was fun and both Kevin Spacey and Buttercup are great in it. I almost stopped watching at one point. I had to decide if it had jumped the shark or not. We already had lies, betrayal, deceit, manipulation, murder…did I really need to see a three way between the first couple and their chief of staff? No. But my brain cramp went away after a few days and I’m glad I finished it. Tell you the truth, I liked Kelsey Grammars’ show, Boss better. But naturally it got cancelled after two seasons. The best shows always get cancelled early, everyone knows that. After that, I needed something fun and frothy so I got all caught up on Parks and Recreation, which makes me laugh out loud every episode. Then, due to the promptings of Katie McCollow, whose TV show stock is sky high with me ever since she recommended Sherlock, told me to watch Heart of Diksie. My keyboard isn’t working real well. The letter I need to use there doesn’t work. Which will be a real problem when I try to tell you about the great idea I had for a girl’s weekend in the mountains watching the “EKS Files.” Oh great; my dash doesn’t work either. This computer is falling apart. Heart of Diksie is a very ‘Gilmore Girls” esque show. It’s fun, frothy, silly, romantic and I love every character in it. The wardrobes rival any thing Secks and the City ever did and the actresses are far lovelier so it’s a real feast for the eyes. It’s set in Bluebell Alabama and it’s a classic fish out of water scenario: Zoe Hart leaves Manhattan to become a small town doctor when she inherits half a practice. The town is filled with interesting characters and young ladies who never leave the house fully coifed and made up. I want to live there. It’s also laugh out loud funny. But it’s not as funny as the Mindy Project, of which I also just power watched two seasons. The Mindy Project kind of reminds me of Parks and Rec, in that it’s set for the most part in an office, I love every character and it makes me happy even when I’m not laughing. It has the added benefit of a long drawn out SportsNight style office romance eksept where Casey and Dana never worked out, Mindy and Danny are one of my favorite couples. I love the fact that Mindy is nothing like most female TV characters. She’s not svelt, perfect or wise. She’s just like real women; it doesn’t matter to her that she has a successful career as an OBGYN in Manhattan, she feels like a failure unless she has a boyfriend. She keeps trying and every guy is funny. Meanwhile, her partner and best friend, Danny is (obviously to everyone but the two of them) madly in love with her. Why wouldn’t he be? She’s adorable: everyone knows that! Those two shows made me wish there were ten seasons worth and books about them so I could spend more time in their universes. Unlike Game of Thrones which does have books , which I wish I hadn’t bothered with and every time I watch the show I think “Yuk. Could this get any grosser? Why am I watching this?” But I know when Season 4 hits Netflicks I’ll put it in my queue. And yes, I’ll hate myself for doing it because watching it will feel like working in an Ebola ward but I’ll get over it. After the weddings were all over I thought I’d get a chance to catch my breath. I was wrong of course. Time flies so fast that it takes more than a few weeks to get my groove back. Josie caught the megabus back to school the day after Lizzie and Kyle’s wedding. Zack’s plan was to head back west as soon as he got paid for working the state fair. It was nice to have him around, especially since Jay flew east to yet another wedding during the first weekend of September. Jay spent a few days in Rhode Island then flew down to Florida where he had several visits lined up with different size and styles of programs.
Car trouble kept Zack kicking his heels around here for about two weeks longer than he’d planned. He ended up getting a new car with help from his Uncle Tim. He hit the road the day before his birthday. Happy Birthday, Zack! Hard to believe it’s been twenty five years of wacky zackiness. The next day, Jay and I packed our own car and drove south. Because we can. This is the first time that our schedules and responsibilities allow us to take what looks like a spontaneous road trip. No kids, no ties…I just had to power squeeze three weeks worth of orders into two weeks and I could blow town with no guilt. I wouldn’t have felt guilty even if I hadn’t done that…the guilt wouldn’t have shown up until I couldn’t pay next month’s bills and even then the feeling would be less guilty than just plain pissed off. I know these things from experience. So we jumped on 35 and drove. It was a beautiful, clear Sunday in September: the best possible driving conditions because of no traffic, no bad weather and most of the construction for the season was finished. We made excellent time and since Jay had packed us a lovely picnic we didn’t even have to stop to eat. It was fun. We got to Wichita just after dark and decided to stop since we were in no hurry. We had dinner and fell asleep because it turns out driving all day is more exhausting than you’d think. Also, Wichita is boring. No offense, W. We slept well and had every intention of hitting the road early. I don’t know what happened but somehow we didn’t get out of town till around ten and we didn’t even eat breakfast first. The last time I drove this route, my folks and I had a terrific breakfast at a diner. Jay and I couldn’t find said diner so we got no delicious breakfast there. Just after noon, we reached Moore Oklahoma, which was in the news last week due to an unfortunate beheading. That’s for a different post. We stopped in Moore because we have friends there. They had lost their home in a tornado last year so we brought them some photos from a camp we’d all worked together 26 years ago on Cape Cod. Insurance built them a new house but couldn’t replace things like photos. It was great to see them again. Before we knew what had happened, we’d chatted away the entire afternoon. It wasn’t until we got back on the highway that we realized it was 4 p.m. and we hadn’t had breakfast yet. Okay, I realized it before we actually got back on the highway but Jay didn’t realize it until I started chewing on his arm. We were hungry but not hungry enough to eat at McDonalds. We held out until we got to a place advertizing the best ham sandwiches in America. Truth in advertizing lives in Oklahoma. We hit traffic coming through Dallas so we didn’t make it to the kid’s house until Babalouie was out for the night. Babydoll, who is a night owl anyway, was still up when we arrived and she was delighted to see us. It’s so much fun now that I know she really does remember us between visits. In the morning, Babalouie acted as though he had missed us dreadfully since he last saw us in August. He’s that charming. Ty was out of town for the first few days of the week. This was unfortunate because we didn’t get to see him but fortunate for me because it meant the kids could stay home from day care and I could play with them all day. Now that Ty is working from his home office, this won’t work when he gets back home. So Monday and Tuesday, I had Babydoll and Babalouie all to myself all day long. We had a blast! Babydoll wanted to eat whatever I did for breakfast and Babalouie is into oatmeal and baby food, all of which he seems to love, so it was easy. Then we played. We played in the livingroom, the bedrooms, the back deck, the back yard…Babalouie crashed before noon. Babydoll, of her own volition, crawled up onto her parent’s bed and conked out before we ate lunch. Both kids slept for over two hours. After that, we ate lunch and played in Babydoll’s room. She did my hair. It was spectacular. We played with everything she owned. Later, while dinner was being prepared, I heard her calling to me from her room. I went back and asked her what she needed. “Look at my room, Nana!” she said, clearly upset. “Yes?” I looked around. It looked like a toy volcano had erupted. “My toys!” she cried. “They’re all over the place!” “Yep.” I agreed. Then I went back to the kitchen, leaving her to clean her room by herself. She’s gotta learn sometime. Playing with toddlers and infants all day is a ton of fun but it’s also the most exhausting thing imaginable. Tuesday was great fun too but Babydoll had a melt down when I wouldn’t let her have her milk at lunch in one of Babalouie’s bottles. Yeah, I don’t know why, either. Stupid Nana. That was twenty minutes of unhappiness when it could have been unadulterated fun all day. In addition to the horses, pony and dogs, Babydoll now has two kitties to play with. They’re a brother and sister who were born in the spring. She named them Betsy and Bailey, they’re both gray and white and they live in the barn. They sleep there at night and spend the day wrestling with each other, purring in Babydoll’s arms or playing with the dogs. The animals all seem very happy in each other’s company. Both cats are very easy going and seem to enjoy being squeezed and dragged all over the yard by a two year old. One of their favorite games is to sneak into the house when a door is opened and being chased all over the house by Babydoll. She always catches them and puts them out and I don’t know who enjoys the process more. Ty got home late last night from his business trip. Jay and I have been so exhausted that neither of us heard him come in even though the guest room is right next to the front of the house. The kids went back to day care today so I’m trying to use the peace, quiet and lack of distractions to get this blog back online. Interesting side note: the first case of Ebola in the country is right up the road in Dallas. The poor guy, who never should have been allowed through customs, was probably getting checked in just as we were driving through town. Isn’t that a happy thought? People keep bleating that we’re a nation of immigrants but back in the days when immigrants came through Ellis Island, if they didn’t pass a physical they weren’t allowed in. If they showed any signs of communicable diseases, particularly TB, they were sent right back where they came from. Now we just let Ebola walk right in to the heart of the country. We’d better all hope Dallas can handle it because with air traffic being what it is, what’s in Dallas today can be in DC and Sacramento by dinner time. Beheadings and Ebola. Interesting times we live in. I’m going to bake Ranger cookies this afternoon while the guys play golf. When the kids get home, I think I’ll take them for a walk. Life is still good. Meloise V
Q: My stoneware dishes have what appear to be scratches on them. Scrubbing with water and baking soda has helped but I can still see lines. Should I be concerned that the glaze is cracking? A: I’m concerned that you have nothing better to read than your stoneware glazes. Yes, chuck the old stuff and go buy new dishes. And a few books while you’re at it. Q: I’ve read your suggestions for deodorizing a pickle jar in order to reuse it but I’ve soaked the metal lid repeatedly and it still smells. Help! A: It’s called ‘hoarding’ and there is help available. After a few sessions, I’m confident that you’ll be able to throw your garbage away. Q: I have a flat top electric stove with baked-on food stains. I’ve tried the products the manufacturer recommends with no luck. Any ideas? A: What you’re complaining about is what I think of as the ‘natural appliance patina’. A simple change in attitude and this becomes a feature, not a bug. Q: My cherry hardwood floors have lighter spots where the rugs used to be. What do you suggest to eliminate this discoloration? A: Wall to wall carpeting. Q: My mother passed down to me an Amish hutch that’s about 50 years old. It has an awful musty smell—do you have any advice? My only alternative is to make firewood out of it! A: Nonsense, you don’t have to make firewood out of it! Place it on the boulevard with a ‘FREE’ sign on it and your problem will be solved within a day! I spent the day re arranging my walls.
No, I don't live in a cubicle house with fake walls. I mean I took down alot of the artwork on the walls and moved things around. I've always loved those magazine spreads of homes where the folks had framed artwork all over every wall, floor to ceiling. I've envied those people. I've always wanted to cover my walls in art, preferably my own and originals by some of my favorite artists. I do own a couple of McCollows. If I were rich, I'd buy some Kochenach's. If I were super rich, I'd own a Sargent. I do have a few prints up that I love: a Monet, a Homer and a beautiful winter scene by Gary David Hoffman. All are from estate sales. The Monet is reproduced on canvas with a lovely gold frame. The woman who ran the sale told me they'd had it appraised and were told not to sell it for less than $150.00. I got it for $40.00. It's not that I'm cheap, it's that; why pay more than $40 if you don't have to? And I'm cheap. Because I'm poor. I was raised to always find ways to live far beyond my means. Nowadays people claim moral superiority for recycling but when I was young it was just called refinished, reusing and garage sales. My guess is that 90% of the furniture in my house is second or third hand. The things I've inherited from my Grandmother could be fourth or fifth hand, since she was an inveterage estate saler. I learned to refinish furniture from my mom. It's much easier than most people think. The result is things like the antique armoir in my living room that cost less than $200.00 when I add the cost of refinisher, stain and varnish. At the moment I have two beautiful wooden chairs with fresh needlepoint upholstery. Even for me, the needlepoint cost ten times more than I paid for the chairs, which I got at a sale for $35.00. That's for the pair, not each. My point is that I know I can get my own things framed without spending a lot of money. I'd been checking out Value Village for years, really. Some of my favorite Holiday outfits have come from there. It wasn't until this summer, however that the art and poster section began to turn up lots of gorgeously framed and matted peices. Or maybe I just hadn't been looking too closely, because of the self emposed moratorium. Here's what I know for sure; since last spring, I've gotten 17 new pieces framed and hung all over my house and I've spent less than $200.00 on the project. I bought a framing tool that is used to plant the metal bits in the back of the frame to hold the backing on. Best money I've ever spent. Jay says the place is beginning to look like an art gallery. Well, yeah. Finally. Pretty sure 'tardy' was short for something else but my goodness, she's funny!
Here's Katie's latest. Sunset on August
Back in May, I wrote a list of all the dates of the events we had scheduled for this summer. In addition to my trip to Texas for most of May and early June, we had six weddings, four bridal showers and three groom’s dinners. This list did not include our wedding anniversary or any of the family birthdays we celebrate during the summer months. As each event took place, I erased the date from the list. Over the course of the summer, a concert and a funeral were added to the list. This morning, I erased the last date from my white board. Today is Labor Day and the long, fun summer of weddings is over. On Friday night, Lizzie and Kyle got married. As with all the weddings this year, this one was unique, great fun and a wonderful reflection of the personalities of the bridal couple. The ceremony took place at a neighborhood church and the reception was over in Dinkytown, the neighborhood of the University of Minnesota’s campus. It was at the Varsity theater, where gophers can catch their favorite bands or comedians when it’s not hosting parties. It’s a very cool venue and totally different from any of the other weddings of the summer. If we’d sponsored a wedding competition this year, I have to say the contestants made it impossible to choose a winner. The only things any of them had in common were that they featured a bride, a groom and a wonderful time was had by all. The Pivec family was more heavily represented at Lizzy’s than at Katie’s. It was wonderful to see the Norwesters and desert dwellers. Three generations of Pivecs came from the desert to celebrate last weekend. Josie (now known as ‘Sloppy Jo’ to her Pivec relatives) behaved herself and drank only water all night but Zack (legally) outdid himself. At the end of the evening, he was seen hugging (HUGGING?) everyone and yelling “My favorite cousin!” at, among others, Mike, Andy and Jake. This is not a particularly huggy group but they were hugging on Friday night. Although the TX Pivecs couldn’t come to Lizzie’s wedding, Ty got a shout out in the Best Man’s speech. He told the crowd that the first Pivec he ever met was Tyler and that 13 year old Ty was probably not the best ambassador the family could have hoped for. I’d love to hear the story of that first meeting; it most likely happened on a neighborhood basketball court. I didn’t dance much at this one, due to having blown out my knee in my ill advised attempt at getting in shape by running. I did dance once; my son in law asked me, he promised to be careful and Sweet Child o’ Mine was playing so… I didn’t reinjure myself so no harm, no foul. Sober Josie drove Katie and Adam home when it was over and I drove myself and Jay. Zack was supposed to come home with us but was last seen wandering down the street with several of his favorite cousins. He was dropped off at home around 10:30 Saturday morning, none the worse for wear. Saturday was used by me to relax and catch my breath. Sunday, I had to get Josie back to the bus by ten so she and I got up for an early mass. I dropped her at the station and got home to frost the chocolate cherry cake I’d promised Tim I would bring out to his place for dinner; our generation of Pivec’s was meeting at the lake for steak and cake. Jay and I drove out with the top down on the Saab and the sun never stopped shining on us although we could see storm on the horizon all the way to Lake Francis. We put the top up when we arrived and it’s a good thing. The afternoon was gorgeous and warm and we had a terrific time. Jay spent most of the afternoon fishing off the dock and he caught several large bass. We took pictures and he threw them back. After dinner, Mary Lou took a bunch of us out on the lake in the new pontoon boat. It was out on the water that we caught sight of the giant thunderheads bearing down on us. We continued our tour of the lake and got back to the house ten minutes before the storm caught us. A half hour after being out on the water in the sunshine, it rained so hard we couldn’t see across the lake. So, out came the cards and pennies and the games began. Not being a card player (only cribbage and gin rummy), I went upstairs where I could watch the rain in peace and work Tim’s Sunday crossword puzzle. Jay and I headed for home around 9. I was so tired when we got back that I fell sound asleep during an episode of Wiseguy. It was all wonderful and just as I had feared; the summer had gone by much, much too fast. |
Categories
All
|