. Summertime Memorial Day weekend started with Em…

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Summertime

Memorial Day weekend started with Emily’s first car accident. Seems she took a corner a little tight, and maybe a tad fast, causing the front left tire to blow out in a pothole. Her friend K. was with her and several others were on the scene immediately, including a guy named John who claimed he could put on the spare. Emily called home to report the incident, and of course I headed out.

Upon arriving at the scene—corner of Washington and Smull–I learned that John had never so much as witnessed the changing of a tire. This was just as well. I was happy to give him and his six lady friends, including my daughter, a quick lesson, beginning with finding out how the hub cap comes off—oh yeah, this is Emily’s new used car, which she saved up for and bought (with a slight boost from the old man) on Tuesday.

I had an appreciative audience there on the curb–things went smoothly after the hubcap annoyance. I emphasized the part about loosening the lugs before jacking up the vehicle, and told them if they get a flat on the highway, wait for “The Man.” With donut wheel in place, Emily drove K. home and I followed. Then I followed Emily home. When we got there, we walked into the kitchen. She turned and asked, “are you mad?” No, I told, her, but cars aren’t supposed to be in the part of the street where that pothole is situated—so, just the facts, Miss. And she gave ‘em straight: K told her that she was driving past the street they had to turn onto, and rather than drive by and turn around, Emily tried to take the turn, no doubt to K’s shock and awe. I’m glad Emily’s explanation had the ring of plausibility to it—I didn’t really doubt it would. But… I’m glad. We got up early on Saturday and went to the tire place. Emily’s debts are mounting nicely~,:^).

Later on Saturday, Lydia and I went to the garden place, and in the afternoon we finished planting the garden. Sunday, Lydia woke up as I was leaving to hang the reunion week alumni art exhibit at Drew. Maureen was sleeping in a bit. Lydia had breakfast with one of her sisters and painted a beach scene on a tile from a painting kit she got for her birthday. I’m amazed at the wave in her painting (above)—it’s the kind of paint handling only a child can pull off. I’d spent most of the day looking at adult paint handling, and it was a pleasure to see a little masterwork on the tile on the kitchen table when I got home.

Tonight I fired up the grill, and like clockwork, my woman had to vilify my Bar-B-Que and badmouth my chicken! I said, “Put some shoes on, woman, I’m running a Bar-B-Que here!” Hmm!

Well, if she can’t tolerate Daddy’s Backyard Thunder Jerk Sauce® on her chicken, that’s alright with me. She can put hers in that mustard stuff.

That’s her business,
Vanx