There’s got to be a time limit of some sort on Spring Cleaning. I just finished mine…in time for Party Central in the neighborhood. Whoo-whoo!
Luckily, the rain held off until after the throngs had ebbed and the clean-up crew was packing up the detritus left by the crowds in attendance. Said crowds were able to sit on chairs that had been cleaned, sit at tables that had been covered, eat food that had been prepared and offered by gourmet wannabe’s, drink chilled beverages of both the “adult” variety and otherwise.
At the Maple Ave. /Park Ave. corner the celebration of the graduation of the nation’s best Industrial Controls Electrician was in full swing on Saturday, with tents on the lawn, a vast display of food—including slow-cooked pork, and plenty of fruit. On the lower end ( elevation-wise, certainly not socially)of Park Ave., on Sunday, was another fandango marking the passage of a number (partially obfuscated, to be sure)of years—good ones, for the most part.
No safety forces had to be engaged at these celebrations.
Getting ready for these gatherings is tougher than the actual events. The logistics get complicated sometimes and the weather is always a big factor during the summer. I watched the weather forecasts for two weeks prior to having people here at the estate, checking out the ten-day prediction every time, and seeing the possibility of rain fluctuate every other day or so. First it’s sunny and fair, then the possibility of rain/thunderstorm creeps in, at 15%. Then the percentage begins rising, a little at a time—30%, 50%, 55%. Then the temperatures start to creep up and little lightening flashes are shown coming from the clouds. Oh good. We do need rain but couldn’t we compromise just a bit and do as they did in “Camelot”, where “The rain may never fall ‘til after sundown”? Sounds like a deal to me.
Anyway, that’s pretty close to how it worked out. Saturday brightened up a little at a time then finished on a sunny note. Sprinkles early…threats, even…but rain never arrived in earnest until Sunday evening and didn’t even persist for too long. We still need rain.
Our all-star electrician had a fine corn-hole thing going and a couple of banners depicting him as the Marching G-Man that he was for so many years AND the national champion tech guy designation that crowned his K-12 career. Friends and family came from all over to be a part of the celebration. “Good on him!” as they say down in Oz (That’s Australia, cobbers.)
Down at my place, the Landscaper Dude and #NumberOne Son and the Weeder Queen were busting humps aplenty cleaning up the outside features, while I looked around inside to figure out where things could be stashed out of sight. I even made tentative swipes at some stuff in both the attic and the basement, just in case the rains came (Isn’t there a movie about a tropical hellhole somewhere named that?) and we had to put people in the low-rent areas of the house. Front porch, check; back porch, check; garage, ohmigod. The brand-new vacuum sweeper came out and acquitted itself pretty well, all things considered. The kitty drinking fountain up and died, but, luckily, did not overflow; it didn’t flow at all and had to be replaced (The replacement didn’t work either; back to the pet store.). It reached the point that I simply declared the effort complete and all hiding places full. It is what it is.
Anyway, folks came in all through the afternoon, it was a fine time. My mother and sister and niece and greatniece met a slice of the crème de la crème of local society(Who were kind enough to not tell all they knew. Maybe it was the influence of the good eats)
The birthday angle is summed up in a Garfield cartoon that I saw some time ago. Garfield the cat is wrapped in a blanky and cozied down in a box lid, speaking to a footed birthday cake/cupcake, decorated in pink and blue, with one single candle. The cat says to the cake, “You must be my birthday nightmare.” The cake replies, “That’s right.” In the next panel, Garfield asks, “Why only one candle?” And the cake says, “Doctor’s orders.” Final panel, Punchline: the cake says, “Last year I pulled a hamstring.”
That about says it.
