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Work Party

Gracious. What a whirl-wind of a weekend. It all started last week when my dad mentioned that he had a bit of time open up in his schedule to come down and build us a small rock wall where part of our pond once was.  It just so happened that I was scheduled to work on Thursday, the day that he and Izak were set to arrive. I didn’t exactly get minute by minute updates as to what was going on, but the time I got home I had a pretty good idea.

When I walked through our backdoor into our yard, I discovered that there was a HUGE bonfire where our pond once was and concrete had been poured where we once had an odd collection of rocks. The work party had all but commenced without me and Maggie was having the time of her life making sure that all was right in her Construction Sal hat.

Friday morning brought the smell of coffee wafting from our kitchen, and my mom’s early arrival at our front door with work gloves spilling out of her pockets.  Eventually we were all out in the yard, digging, mixing and making a ruckus. I was informed that my rain gear wasn’t up to snuff and when the rain really started to fall, I retreated inside with the rest of the girls.

I called my grandparents to make sure that they stopped by because there is something that my grandpa loves about construction and he couldn’t miss this chance to see his own son creating something beautiful. Plus, my grandparents never, ever turn down a chance to see Maggie. Look at my grandpa’s face in the photo below. That is one proud chicken.

Work, work, work. I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it again: working outside digging, lifting, hauling, bending, chopping and everything else is hard and extremely rewarding.  My dad and Izak didn’t complain once about the horrible weather or my endless chatter when I was ‘helping.’ My dad especially was a machine….a miracle worker, if you will.

Towards the end of Saturday night and daylight was all but gone, Barry and I started to haul gravel to cover the nearly finished pit.  I had been fussing earlier over his inability  to use power tools and ability to haul a large load of rocks.  I think he was ready for me to stop hover-mothering him because he threatened to do a blog post titled ‘My Wife Thinks I’m a [Wimp].’  Personally, I think it’d be a funny blog post to read, but I don’t think he’s going to write it. Don’t hold your breath.

Cora and Chaya stopped by too, but we were too busy eating lunch to take any photos.  I also convinced Barry and my dad to help me hack down some branches that have been bothering me and I was informed that I am for sure ‘my mother’s daughter,’ a badge that I’m proud to wear. My mom and Maggie spent time both inside and out and those of us still outside could often see her curly top perched next to the window babbling orders to my mom or through the open window to us.

Technically we’re not supposed to sit on the wall until Tuesday, but some of us got a chance to test it out earlier….you know, just want to make sure it can hold us and all. Last time my dad came and built us a wall, Kurt and Debbie literally walked in as we were putting the tools away. Today Joe beat them to the punch line and strolled into our backyard just as we were lighting the fire to test out our new digs. He invited Barry to the Seahawks game and Barry changed out of his dirty clothes and they hit the road.  [Side note: Kurt and Debbie ended up coming over for dinner (Thanks, Deb!) so they weren’t too far off with their timing!)

A short time later my mom and dad pulled out of our driveway, with Maggie ‘beep beeping’ to the dump truck and blowing kisses to my mom.  With just Maggie and I now at the house, we went back up to the fire pit and got the digger-thing and practiced moving rocks from here to there. We also dug out some dry wood and built a heavy-duty fire…..I don’t think that either of us were ready for the work party to be over.

 

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Point Lobos, Big Sur & The World Series

After I filled up one of my camera card with photos, I popped in my trusty old back up and discovered a couple pictures of Maggie last year wearing the same brown jumpsuit that we’ve got a duplicate of this year. She was such a chubby cutie pa-tootie, she still is just not as roly-poly. We packed the brown jumpsuit thinking that we’d use it all the time, but we only busted it out one day when the weather was a bit foggy. Other than that, we all got to strut our stuff in shorts, dresses and t-shirts….except for Barry who didn’t wear any dresses.

While we were in Carmel the World Series happened and somehow we became enthralled with the series. I found myself quizzing Barry about different players and we’d talk about the games well after the last pitch had been thrown. It worked out just perfectly that we’d pack our lunch and head out the door in the morning in search of a trail that would suit our needs either in Big Sur or the Point Lobos State Reserve across the bay from our cabin.

We snuck Sydney onto a few hikes, I swear that was a picture of a horse and not a dog with a red x on it, and discovered that even the high 60s are too hot for her to hike in. She’d always start out with such gusto, but a few times we were worried that we’d have to switch Maggie out of the backpack and slide Syd in.

During our hikes we’d chat each other up and the theme of our conversations often revolved around two things:

1. What were we having for dinner/dessert that night.

2. What time was the World Series on again?

We’d hike until our legs got tired, our dog started lagging behind or our child started screaming. At one point I dumped part of our water bottle on Sydney in hopes of cooling her off and I’m certain that she hasn’t forgiven me for it yet. I have moved wayyyy down on her list of favorite humans.

One day after a longer hike in Big Sur (Which I really didn’t get pictures of that are of any value. Boo on that. )we stopped on our way home to check out Point Lobos State Reserve. We left the backpack in the car and let Maggie motor along with us or passed us between our able arms. The Reserve was actually a huge chunk of land that was donated decades ago by the family that owned our cabin, so in a very round-about way I felt a distant connection to the cypress tree grove and steep cliffs.

We were surprised by the size of the reserve and happily followed a trail along the water’s edge watching the sun go down, putting on yet another spectacular show; however, we failed to realize how far away from our car we’d really gotten. So there we were….with out a light, map, or even a diaper and it was getting dark.

Suddenly, what had started out as a quick trip to scope out the State Reserve, turned into a ‘oh-crap-we’ve-got-to-get-back-to-our-car-before-dark-and-we’re-wearing-flip-flops’ type of stop.  We weren’t really worried all that much, but I wasn’t interested in cruising around aimlessly in the dark.

We busted our tushies and made it back to our car by the time it was pitch black. Both Barry and I heaved s sigh of relief and promised that we didn’t need anymore adventures like that…truth be told, we’d pretty much almost been hit by a few cars, but don’t tell our moms that, kay?

Once back home we started cookin’ up our delicious Surf & Turf and some brownies to boot….while St. Louie crushed Texas. Maybe crush isn’t the right word, but it sounds perfectly dramatic.