Le Patio

As I have said before, spring is here and with the advent of warmer temperatures comes the onrushing tide of yardwork. Our front patio is a thing of art and beauty, designed and built by The Ladies: SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed) and the BRD (Beautiful Rich Daughter).

But that was a few years ago and time and the weather have caused some problems.

The up-raised gardening area is protected by a curving row of paving stones. But because they are curved, there are cracks and crevices between some of the stones. Through which, SWMBO has learned, dirt tends to leak out and tumble onto the patio. So, she came up with a solution this year. First, she would stuff some newspaper in the cracks. Then she would spray it with one of those aerosol foam dispensers. The foam becomes hard when it dries, which is damned near instantaneous.

So she sent me to the store the other day to get some of the foam stuff. But she hadn't revealed her plan to me at that point and I have learned through the years just to run her errands without asking questions.

But the lady at the store asked me what I was going to plug with the foam and I had to confess that I didn't have the faintest idea. She said if it was something in the house it would be best to use the fireproof stuff. So I bought it.

Later, SWMBO revealed her plan to me. And today she set about carrying it out. I have also learned over the years not to get in her way when she is set on a project so I was inside, dinking around with the computer when I heard a thud. I called out (always the concerned male) "What's the matter?"

SWMBO responded curtly, "Don't talk to me right now!"

A bit later, I wandered past the bathroom and observed SWMBO working on her hands. I inquired if she had got some of the foam on her hands. She responded in the affirmative. I asked why she hadn't worn gloves. She gave me a withering look and pointed out that she has a brace on her left arm and hand, treating a bout of tendinitis.

She also said that the foam comes out of the can a kind of pukey (her word) orange and that you can't control the stuff. So I wandered out to look at her handiwork.

Well, we agreed that a touch of paint and some of the flower pots shoved up against the walls will take care of that problem.

Next is the patio itself. The Ladies had decided they wanted it to be a sort of adobe red color. So they stained it. That worked fine on the paving stones but not so good on the paved patio, which is of a smoother and considerably less porous texture. After a couple of years it was showing signs of wear. First, an outdoor carpet was placed over the central section and that worked good for awhile. But now, some 7 years after we moved in, the carpet had faded and partially disintegrated and it went into the trash. Leaving this:

SWMBO has decided this time to paint it. First, however, it needs to be cleaned with some type of solution and then left to dry for several days. Today was the day "we" were going to tackle the cleaning. But it's in the low 50's and our typical spring wind is blowing hard enough to move people, cars and small buildings. And it's cold out there.

But SWMBO knows the BRD is anxious to plant and move her big plants out to the patio from inside the house. And by Sunday, it is supposed to be 80 degrees here. So the cleaning must be done today.

I am looking forward to it. (This is a lie.)

Further progress reports will follow.

UPDATE: Patio is cleaned. It wasn't that bad after all. And the foam seems to be as fragile as an eggshell so trimming it back will be no problem.

Frightful beginning - happy ending

Yesterday was the 37th wedding anniversary of SWMBO and I. I said I was going to take her to dinner at a swank place, the Hassayampa Inn's Peacock Room.


I was also arranging a bit of a surprise: the BRD and her beau would be joining us a few minutes after we were ensconced. Setting it up with BRD in the morning, she said get a booth and tell them it's for four but to only have it originally set for two. So I did.

There's something to remember when you try to do this. The person you make the reservation with earlier in the day is usually not the person who will seat you in the evening. When we arrived, he said "Ah, it's a table for four."

I mumbled something about their being a mistake, there were only two of us. So he took us to a table for two. I pointed at the booth I had been promised and said, "Couldn't we sit there?"

He responded, "But that's set for four."

Oh, damn.

I finally had to whisper in his ear that we had two more coming but my wife didn't know about it, that it was a surprise. So he switched us to the larger booth. But, of course, by this time SWMBO had tumbled to the "surprise." With a grim expression, she asked if BRD and her beau were joining us, then said she wasn't happy about going to an expensive restaurant in the first place and now I was doubling the price! Well, she calmed down after getting into her FIRST martini.

The other couple arrived and the rest of the evening went fairly well, though the girl's scallops initially weren't cooked enough and had to go back to the kitchen for more heat. The evening's chef . . . who we learned actually was the sous chef since the head guy was off for the evening . . . later came to our table, apologized repeatedly and bought us a dessert.

I could tell you a story about the BRD's attire but I think I'd better not.

Oh, I forgot to tell you about the beginning of this idyllic evening.

As we were heading out, probably a mile from our home, we came to a 90 degree turn in the road. I saw a car approaching from the opposite direction and figured that we were both likely to get to the corner at the same time. We did. He had the setting sun in his eyes and, like many drivers including myself who come through that corner every day, he cut the corner. I had slowed down but hit my brakes as we two drivers found ourselves staring into each others eyes and he swerved to avoid a head-on collision. As one of my friends noted this morning - avoiding a head-on collision: priceless.

Oh, but let me go back even further. Before leaving home, I nicked myself while shaving. As SWMBO noted, I haven't cut myself in years doing that but because we have a big night out planned . . .

No styptic pencil at home so I wandered the house wearing a small piece of tissue stuck to my face. SWMBO suggested applying some "New Skin". She didn't tell me that it was going to burn like fire. And, it didn't stop the bleeding! After a second application and then some make-up work by SWMBO, I was ready to go. And the rest is history.

Next year it may be the drive through lane at McDonald's!

McCain-less

This year's Republican presidential nominee (and one hopes eventual loser) John McCain is in my neighboring village this morning. Ever since Barry Goldwater launched his pitiful presidential campaign in 1964 by speaking from the courthouse steps in Prescott, Republicans have come here to emulate him. Considering that Goldwater, who was more Libertarian than Republican, got stomped in the presidential campaign, one wonders why subsequent Republicans want to remind people of their "common legacy."

I knew Barry somewhat. I first covered him in that '64 campaign when he came through North Dakota. Later, as a 15 year resident of Phoenix, I went to his news conferences when he was "home." I also did an interview with him back in the 70's when I was a stringer for a national magazine. I heard stories from Barry's friends about his early days, pre-politics, when he used to get in trouble across the border in Nogales, Mexico. But Goldwater was a decent, honorable man who generally stuck to his beliefs, whether they angered Democrats or Republicans.

I can't say the same for John McCain. As someone has said this year, the Straight Talk Express has gotten derailed in this campaign. McCain has changed about as many positions as that other flip-flopper, Mitt Romney.

One little lie, fairly harmless but irritating to Arizonans is that McCain has a ranch in Sedona. McCain's "ranch", which consists of two or three houses, actually is located in Page Springs. And his mailing address is Cornville, a burg which matches its name and is about as far in the opposite direction as the tony and spacey Sedona.

So, I didn't go to the courthouse square to see McCain this morning. Like I suspect most of the country will demonstrate in November, I can do without him.

Who IS that guy?

Ah, the slightly older Catalyst.

In Minot, North Dakota, where he was known as "Bruce on the Loose", keeper of the nighttime airwaves on KCJB radio.

Rock on!

Comments

Sorry folks. A couple of spam comments yesterday have led me to enforce comment approval on my blog. It won't really affect regulars and non-spammers except that it may take longer for your comment to show up.

Damn spammers!

What is this?

Without scrolling down for the answer, can anyone identify what these strange structures are?

They look a little like grain silos.

They might also be some kind of rocket launching platforms.

What are they?

O.K. Here's the answer.

They're just supports for a dock at Watson Lake near Prescott. It's the ground level approach of the first photo that may have fooled you.

It was a beautiful day to visit the lake, which is full of water from the rain and snow we've had this winter.

In years past, there was an ugly white ring around the lake, showing where the water level previously had been and now once again is. The "bathtub ring" is under water this year.

Also enjoying the day were some waterfowl.

March 31st, 2008. A nice day for a swim.

This one's for you, Granny!

Knowing how Granny J likes the color R*E*D, especially on cars, I figured it was time to give her a look at BRD's warm weather car, as she calls it.


Even the centers of the wheels are R*E*D!


Since this is a 1983 Mercedes, the BRD has secured a most apt personalized license plate for her car.


We have a friend who, at middle age and unexpectedly single again, bought himself a little red sports car. He said every single man should have one.

I guess that goes for single (sort of) girls, too.