"Home, Trashed Home"
As the countdown to the demolition of our kitchen ticked away, we continued our own initial destruction, tearing out cabinets and removing ceiling tiles; it got to the point where little in the room needed to be kept functional or pristine, and then Groom really cut loose. He hung bowling pins from the rafters and gave Paco a baseball bat. "Hit stuff" was the order.
Yea, everyone needs a daddy like that.
Then, this past Tuesday morning, with the kindergarten crew having done its best with a bat, the actual demolition crew came in and started working out their own anger issues on our kitchen.
"This is fun," swore the foreman to me, wiping sweat off his forehead. Hell yea. We filled his thermos with coffee and then pulled away in our mini-van, leaving them to their fun as we headed south.
The demolition dovetailed nicely with a two-week road trip we'd planned, first to St. Louis (where I am right now, as I type) and then back up to Minnesota next week for my 20-year college reunion (which is really odd, since I'm only 24). We're viewing camping as training for the rest of our summer, once we get back home, when we won't have a kitchen for at least 8 weeks. Groom will flip pancakes on the camp stove, and I'll be all about pork chops in the crock pot (one time I messed up and made crock in the pork pot, and let me tell you, that required extra scouring).
This looks so peaceful, but I've decided "tent" should actually be called "place that is simultaneously hot and cold, where my hips hurt and my arms fall asleep all night--and that's before the garbage trucks, inexplicably run by a Christian organization, come and empty the dumpsters near our campsite at 5:45 a.m."
We're in St. Louis now and today attended the rehearsal of a wedding that will be held this Sunday. Don't fear: we were invited to both.
As I think about the restricted eating that awaits us once we get back to Duluth, I am outrageously happy that the reception meal after the wedding will be barbeque. I plan to cram enough into to get me through the summer without having to restock my stomach.
21 comments:
And so the fun begins, huh? I loved your description of a tent -very true! Try tenting when you are my age, with a bad back, some intestinal issues, and needing to have something sturdy to grab hold of when you get down on the floor but instead, you are on the ground, in a tent, awake at 3 am in a pretty dark camping area with a need to get up and go to the bathroom -which of course, is at least one football field length away from your location. There ain't nothing stable in a tent to get hold of to give you the needed leverage to get your butt up and mobile, trust me!
Camping... in an actual tent? I'm not brave enough for that. The only time I've ever been camping is with friends, who have cabins in the mountains and campers.
cam-ping? I am sorry, is that English?
I'm with flutter, I don't know what this strange custom is you are speaking about, but I am familiar with the odd, random numbers people put in front of my reunions. 15? 20? I think not.
I knew I'd arrived on the threshold of middle age when I made peace with the inflatable Queen-sized air mattress I take camping with me now. Oh, I used to have that spongy yoga mat thing I'd roll out under the sleeping bag, which pretty much only ensured the sticks and rocks would not completely penetrate the spinal column, but I upgraded to something I actually make up with sheets and blankets. Because being able to walk contributes heavily to my woodland enjoyment.
We are leaving next week for 2 weeks camping in the Big Horn mountains in Wyoming. No tents for us; we have a camping trailer with two (so-called) double beds, one for each of us. To the skinny little foam thing the trailer people call a mattress I add the bench cushions and a 4" thick memory foam pad. No sore hips for me. Add a couple pillows, two sleeping bags and a down comforter (it gets cold in the mountains!) plus a 50+ pound dog and I'm good for 10 hours a night.
Oh, and we also take a small generator so we can run a teeny waffle iron and toaster oven and charge the computers and iPod. But we put it on a 125' extension cord so it is far enough away not to bother anyone at the campground.
Hey we have that brand of tent too!
Have a great vacation!
You're a brave, camping woman, aren't you?! I'd almost forgotten about the aching hips and the sleeping arms.
Garbage pick-up at 5:42?! Well, you guys were up and making breakfast by the time anyway, weren't you?
:-D
Pearl
Groom is awesome. I doubt we'd be brave enough to give our boy a bat even if we were demolishing the kitchen.
Camping scares me only because I dread the midnight bathroom run.
Next summer will be the big camping test for me. I've loved camping in our tent in the past, but I think I'm now at your first commenter's stage. We'll see. How exciting about your kitchen - the results will be worth all the inconvenience.Looking forward to seeing the progress. Enjoy your reception and travels! The family pic is a lovely one!xx
Unfortunately it never works that way. you always end up still wanting to eat the next morning...
Yes, as I plan for my once a year camping trip down to Krakow for the Coke Live Music Festival with my daughter, I totally agree with your description of a tent.
This year though, I'm buying a HUGE backpack, taking an inflatable mattress, attempting to arrive before nightfall (so that we won't pitch our tent on a huge chunk of metal in the ground), and buying a REALLY warm sleeping bag.
Good luck with the remodeling. Your new daily mantra should be, "This too shall pass."
The gazebo thing in St Louise looks awesome. Hope to see lots of pics of your trip.
Oh Daddy! I need a daddy like that!
iJim
I love the idea of not having to restock ones stomach. Think of the time we could save, and the money.
It doesn't surprise me that you graduated from college at four and didn't waste time on K-12. If everyone followed your example, we could do away with all those holding cells we call schools. Besides, graduation gowns just cry out for diapers.
Do you think Groom would consider adopting me? I have my own hammer.
oh the joys of camping :o) My Girl - age 11 - has been camping in pouring rain the last 4 days, at an annual animal show. The first thing she said when she again was safe home ( not that I have been dead anxious, no no, not at all..) was " can I go again next year?" hmm kids... preferring this to a warm cosy DRY bed, the bathroom nearby, red wine in a glass... well, the last one is OK for her to leave be for many years still!
hm, thougt for a minute you had crashed a wedding... somehow I wouldn't have been completely surprised...
I'm trying to figure out how a thirty year old can be coming up on her 24th wedding anniversary. Must need to use the "new" math.
And you have your post-construction family therapist appointment scheduled way in advance, correct?
oh, baseball bat to the kitchen... Sounds fun!
Reunions do have that way of making one question if time has really passed (at least for oneself; everyone else looks so gosh darned bald, gray and worn out)
But, 24 year olds don't have hips that hurt from sleeping in tents.
BTW Diana is on Facebook.
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