My parents arrived a month ago for a weekend of hard partying. This is when my mother painted my acre of bookshelves. We took a little break to run out to the new outdoor shopping center in Meridian. I think we just wanted to watch my father squirm with all the piped in music and licentious living. He barely made it out alive.
Curiously, this is also where I’m blogging from. Or perhaps, more importantly, why I have time to blog at all. I have my nephew with us for the week, and I just shoved them all into the $1 matinee, while I hang out by the fountain. High five.
Baby kittens all around. I was feeling a little burnt out by the time my parents got here, so it was nice that they came and pushed me over the edge on a few more projects. We finished the bookshelves and Reuben assembled and did a rough sand on the table and bunk bed that needed finishing.
Some things are so much work that it literally sucks your will to live, to think of doing them all by yourself. Reuben was getting cramped up sanding the table so he passed it on to Natalie. When I got it I still had to go over it a bazillion times with the finish sander. Then I was looking at five coats of Waterlox sealant. By the time I had gone over the whole table and bench once I was pretty much demoralized. I went to my husband and said, “I kind of need you to do the second coat for me.” Which is really weird since anything that involves a paintbrush is pretty much my department. But he was a gentleman and complied. When he was done I asked, “Do you see why I couldn’t do that twice?” He pretty much couldn’t see why I do it at all. Fortunately, each consecutive coat needed to be less thorough, to where only the tops got a fourth and fifth coat. It took me a week and I pretty much stayed high the whole time.
While my sister was here I used the opportunity to take her to the shooting range. We concluded that while we weren’t very good shots, our imagined assailants would eventually bleed to death. Natalie and I both wear dresses all the time so we don’t think anything of it. But we did get a lot of looks at the shooting range and eventually a guy came up and asked, “Are you sister missionaries?” I think we were making him nervous. Natalie didn’t understand why he would make the connection. She looked at me and said pointedly, “They don’t have dyke sister missionaries. Or pregnant ones for that matter.” For some reason it is okay in my family to make fat jokes about post-partum women. But that’s alright, I like to have occasion to sing the chorus of “Wiggle” at her. What are siblings for? “What you gonna do with that big fat butt?”
On Saturday my dad requested a trip to Silver City. It’s a ghost town that used to be in the running for the state capital. The old buildings have been bought up and are used as summer cabins. You can see little solar panels tacked on everything.
I think it’s neat that the town is slowly being restored. My father was unsure if anything would be left from the last time he saw it. The boys had fun exploring. Although Gideon got lost on the way back to the truck and was almost never heard from again. I think he walked past the truck, crossed the road, and just kept on going. Next, it’s my turn to visit northern Idaho.