Saturday, June 5, 2010

getting ready

We are getting ready for Little Jay's graduation party next Friday.

Oh, yeah.

Jay put roasts in the oven to cook and then did landscaping clean up. In the rain, he did this. Yep. He doesn't even complain. I don't get it.

He'll wail away about government paperwork, but with rain dribbling down the neck of his shirt, shoveling and raking in the rain, not a peep. Thank goodness for him. (I'll take care of the government papers, no problem, just don't make me stand in the rain.)

Right now, he's asleep on the bed here beside me, arm over his head, wearing an old red T-shirt that says, "Family of God" across the chest with a softball logo around it, and his Potato Head pajama pants. He could not be any sweeter. "Family of God," yes indeed. (He used to coach this team.)

So anyway, I cleaned our nasty, old dusty kitchen. It hasn't been done since Thanksgiving, so it was time. The gas stove with old continuous pilot lights makes the dishes and shelves in the cupboards filmy and sticky, and the top of the cabinets too, and big boogery dust gets on the valance over the stove.

So I gotta clean that up a couple times a year and today was the day. The curtains went in the wash, and the freezer was even defrosted in that old refrigerator, so we can actually get food in it again.

My life is seriously so exciting.

This afternoon I had an open house, and the rain just continued, low, depressing sky.

On the ride home, it was terribly gloomy and my mood tracked along with it. I actually felt like I might cry. It's absurd, but true. I suppose I could find something to be sad about... yet there was nothing specific on my mind. Honestly, I don't have even one single problem to be unhappy about, but there I was. REEE-diculous.

The radio stations all had ads or crap playing... okay Nickelback?

A song of theirs occasionally is fine, but the way he rasps his voice over his vocal cords sounds painful. And this is the song that makes me aggravated--it goes like this: "My friend gave me the best advice..." Okay, and all his friend does is spout cliches. I have yelled in the car, to the bafflement of the kids, "Your friend is an IDIOT."

"Mother. Are you okay?"

I'm fine. (I'd rather hear how he wants to play baseball in the bathroom.)

So I hit the CD player, not sure what was in there...Wilco? Neil Young? Very familiar chords filled the car, and his familiar voice followed. Rod Stewart. Of course. "I had nothing to do on this hot afternoon..."

(When I was 15 I could not take my eyes off him.) Jay surprised me with tickets the last couple times he's been in town, and he's better than ever, dresses better, has a better haircut.

He's no kid anymore, but his aging is surprisingly endearing. None of us stays 22 forever. Sigh. It's true--it was all very temporary, his youth and ours.


Soon the phone on my lap rang--Heidi, wanting us to bring some furniture to her that we don't want anymore, and see her house. (The house is looking absolutely beautiful.)

Then she and Joe came over later to play One-Card Poker with the kids and us.

The poker chips are at the lake, but Tim presented us with a bag of corn chips to use instead.

hey, no peeking

We put batteries in the card shuffler, nachos in the microwave, brownies in the oven, Captain in the coke...

the kids got the brownies ready

Julia's outrageous shrieky laughter hurt all our ears.

It was a superb evening. love, Val

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