Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

This past weekend was relaxing family fun. My brother and his wife were down from Vermont because her father had a heart attack. Fortunately, he responded well to treatment and had no real damage to his heart. So after that, we could relax and spend time together.

It was the first weekend we'd all gotten together in a long time that didn't involve some sort of holiday. Maybe that's why we were so relaxed.

My brother had worked up a sweat prying open one of the windows that had been painted shut years ago. It took a lot effort, but he finally managed to wiggle and scrape it free.

Dad has done a lot of painting since I was there last. He had finished the yellow which was going on the inner portion of the windows and in the hallway. It was a different yellow than we had decided on, the colors having been taken from a room we all liked in Trading Spaces. I'm not sure how it will go with the red we've chosen for the trim, but again, it's Dad's apartment.

Once Dad returned from his morning rounds at the hospital, we all walked to the convenience store to buy some sodas and maybe a little lunch. I didn't expect to find anything there that I could eat, but they now have chef salads that are pretty good.

We went back to Dad's place to eat our lunches and talk about what we would do the rest of the day. I had suggested going swimming at a state park, because I'd bought a bathing suit at the end of last summer and hadn't yet had a chance to use it. But this idea was ruled out when we realized the closest park to us has legendarily cold water, only worth daring on an oppressively hot day. Plus, we had to be back in time to meet Mom for dinner at Perkins. She was working this weekend, having arranged it a month ago, having not anticipated these unusual circumstances.

We considered taking the dogs to the closest park and letting them run around, but my sister reminded us there were skunks there. None of us wanted to spend the rest of the day giving dogs tomato baths.

Sitting there in Dad's partly painted dining room and thinking of the items we needed to get yet to complete the transformation, we decided the best way to spend the afternoon was a trip to Lowe's. This got us more excited than it probably should have.

At Lowe's we spent a happy hour or so wandering around and looking at things. My brother and his wife showed us which kind of sink they're considering for the bathroom they're going to redo. One person or another kept grabbing me by the hand to show me what they were going to use for a home improvement down the line. Even my sister who, like me, lives in an apartment, has plans to refinish a scratched table by covering it with hand-fired tiles.

I bought a dolphin pull chain for my fan, to match the one that already is attached to the fan blade mechanism. Now I can more easily turn off the light portion of it. I told the cashier I didn't need a bag, and just slipped it into my pocket. For the rest of the day, I went up to people and said, "I've got a dolphin in my pocket. Want to see?"

We made it to Perkins on time, but Mom was held up at work for an hour, so we chatted and bought some stickers from a vending machine outside. I got a band of monkeys.

Finally, we ordered anyway, resolving to hang around with Mom so she could eat, too. Our food arrived just as she did. When she saw we were all eating really healthy meals, she got one, too. I think the heart attack scared all of us into behaving.

Dad has been making everybody get their cholesterol checked. I insisted I don't want to get mine checked, because then I don't have to worry. I'll just die somebody and be surprised about it.

We frightened the other patrons in the restaurant by having an argument over whether puppy breath smells good or not. We were talking and laughing loudly about it when my sister noticed no one else was talking. When we left, she said they were probably saying, "Thank God those weirdoes are gone."

After dinner, we went back to Mom's place, where she was making strawberry jam from some strawberries she'd ordered awhile ago and which arrived that day. She freezes the jam and uses it on her waffles during the winter.

My brother, bored, wandered around the house inspecting it to see what had changed. He found a Razor Scooter that Mom had received for a Christmas present a couple years back. After posing for a picture with it and taking turns trying it out, I don't believe she'd touched it since. He asked Mom if she minded giving it up, and she said she was just happy to get more stuff out of the house.

Anxious to try it out right away, my brother and I went outside with it. He started zipping up and down the street, going up and down the neighbor's driveway, crouching down and doing tricks. I remembered I had a pogo stick in the garage, so I retrieved it. It was red and bent and rusted, much like my truck, Red Arrow. But surprisingly, it still worked.

We had a contest. My brother jumped on it 58 times in a row, and I kept trying until I beat him. I only made it to 60. I could have done more, but I was wearing Tevas, which are terrible footwear for pogo sticking. No arch support.

Meanwhile, a couple came down the street, pulling two small children in a wagon. My brother explained to them, "We're just reliving our childhood."

Dad joined us, and we pointed out to him that the neighbor's mulberry tree was full of berries, so we all walked over and ate some. Andy's wife joined us, too, in eating mulberries, pogo sticking and riding the scooter. We were having, as my brother termed it, "a quarter life crisis." I pointed out that would mean we'd live to 120, but none of us felt quite old enough for a mid-life crisis.

When Mom was done with the strawberries, we all drove back to his place so she could see the paint job. She was making suggestions about other things he can do in his apartment, such as get rid of all the furniture. When his cats were young, they used to claw the backs of the chairs. They've since outgrown those kittenhood indiscretions, so it's safe to get new furniture. Or maybe they're just waiting for new things to sink their claws into. The old furniture is clawed out.

Overall, it reminded me of the way our summers used to go, those lazy, silly summers.

Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson

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