Ruh-Roh: "Every Day Is Like a Wednesday"

Hard drive on computer failed.
Road construction ahead.
Expect delays.

Sheesh.




Have a Technical One.  : /

FO Friday: It's a New Day, It's a New Year, So Crikey! TURN UP THE #$%&!@ HEAT!

Starting the new year on the island takes some gumption.
It's bitter cold. The kind of cold, though numerically not that low, that curls down your coat neck, seeps up your jacket arms and burrows deep into your bones.
Ack.

And let me tell you - these "yankees" don't cotton to using much heat oil anywhere, either, lol.

In the stores, grabbing a sandwich, out to dinner, picking up feed at the feed-and-seed store, wood-burning stoves goin', Islanders use their well-honed dressing skills to keep them warm. That, and I think there's a high birth rate in the early Fall, lol.


So, anway. I have several options.
Option #1 - Turn up the heat. Ok, that's not reasonable. Did you see the oil prices lately?

Option #2 - Head to a warmer climate.
This, in fact, is what a lot of island residents do during the off-season. Many own land, condos, etc. in Cabo, Belize and Puerto Rico, because the prices are still reasonable for a small second home, and our money is still strong and living is relatively cheap. And it's WARM, for crikey's sake.
This, too, is not yet possible, cause Mama still needs a new pair of shoes, and has to stay here to work for them, lol.

Option #3 If you can't beat'em, join em.
Hence, my F(inished) O(bject) Friday List!

First, what they say is true - cover your top, your bottom, and your extremities to keep extra warm.
It is truly amazing what wearing a hat, gloves and woolen socks do to keep body heat in and higher.

I have taken to wearing hand-knit hats of all shapes and kinds - all wool, all the time.

Here, we have the newly finished green Tremont Hat . 

It's knit in my "go-to" yarn, Quince & Co., Lark, Green Parsley colorway. I know, I know. It is a strange color to choose when you have soooooo many yummy colors to choose from, but it fits the pattern exactly! See?

Decent coverage whether you are in your house putting away holiday decor, outside filling the bird feeder, or on-the-go doing taxi duty for "Family Dinner Night."

 When I needed an I-Completely-Forgot-What-I-Was-Doing-On-Christmas-Morning-And-I-needed-To-Cover-My-Hair hat? I wore my just-finished, Pinch Hat, completed with stone and seaglass buttons plucked from the ocean and craft-drilled to perfection. (Seen here in an "action shot" lol just before the dogs got into it over a Christmas Dog Biscuit)



Second,  wool really works! to keep tootsies warm. I have learned to knit woolen socks of differing yarn weights and types for different situations.

Wearing my Dansko clogs to run to the market? Pull on Lobster Pot Sox Yarn (yep, they dye it in big ol' clambake-style lobster cooking pots!) knit in "boiled lobster" (dang! in the wash, but here's the colorway). Everybody here seems to wear loudly colored socks with the drabbest outfits. Go figure. I used my go-to Fleegle's Toe-Up sock pattern with one long 40" circular needle and a figure-eight cast-on.This is the knitting project I most always take when I travel. It's compact, only one needle and it's very attached to the project so I can't really lose it, lol, and it goes quickly, and fits every recipient I ever made it for, based on loose shoe-size estimates.

Wearing my Muck Boots mocs to take the dog out? Slip on my thick, twiced-darned (this is not a new FO, obviously) Manos Del Uruguay socks, using Ann Norling's #12 basic sock pattern,  in (I think it's discontinued) a purpley colorway.

Last, you'd be surprised, but covering just your wrists and hands, not even the fingers!, keeps you feeling warm. To that end I am blatantly plugging my hat and wrist warmers I just finished for the Christmas Artisan's Show.

These wrist warmers I wear all the time (that's my DIL Jenna, modeling) inside the house (I am partial to the Carrie's Yellow ones, again in Quince & Co. yarn, Puffin weight this time), even with shirts, as they really do keep the pulse points on the wrist warm, keep cooler air from going up the sleeve edges, and look pretty keen, too. And when you wear them over your coat sleeves? Well. Can you say warm and toasty? The hat? Basic, pretty, easy to knit, quick to finish. What more can you ask for?


Yes the Old North Winds may blow, and the cold Jet Stream air may infiltrate, but the island population has figured out some pretty decent tried-and-true ways to keep warm.

Now if we could only figure out how to bring the cost of home heating fuel down...

 Have a Warm and Toasty One. :)

Finished Object (FO) Friday: For Your Christmas Shopping Pleasure - Shop Local

Tada.
All done.
My hats and wrist warmers are all done, and ready for sale at the Artisan's Show - Chappy Room, The Newes Pub.

If anyone else is interested, I will be starting up an online store soon for my knitted goods on Etsy.com. But in the meantime, these sets are available - in 9 colors - for $38 + shipping. Sold separately, $20 each + shipping.

Colors available:
Goldfinch - antiqued yellow
Mushroom - heathered brown
Winesap - muted red
Rosa Rugosa - muted fuchsia/lipstick pink
Pomegranate - muted rosy pink
Clay - muted salmon/pink
Lichen - mossy green
Cypress - deep forest green
Peacock - deep teal blue

You can email me at: inky077mvy@gmail.com for further information.

I used a wonderful yarn to create these handmade items from a regional source - New England-based yarn company in Portland, Maine: Quince & Co. Quince is a company I would like to work for! Pam Allen, CEO, answers the phone, packs the goods and even helps out a little old knitter like me when she orders a whole box of the wrong weight yarn. This is a small, creative company, regionally located to serve the needs of fiber artists who want a quality product at a fair price with beautiful colors, all within their geographical region. Their patterns are inventive, and their customer service outstanding. Look them up: Quince & Co.


Have a warm and cheery one. :)

Hello, My Name Is Kevin

No, not THAT Kevin

And with that, a beautiful partnership has begun.
I'm talking about the new, from-the-Mainland UPS driver.
Kevin.

Kevin will deliver packages down our lane come Hell or High Water.

High Water arrived first, and Kevin drove right through it. He actually packed down the growing, rain-induced crevice across the gravel drive, saving us from certain washout.
If that's not extra service with a smile, then I don't know what is.

Meanwhile,  a different package service stopped delivery that same afternoon, because the boats were canceled, due to wind. Fact was, our "track-package" indicated our delivery was already ON ISLAND, lol.

"Off-island Kevin" beats it past the rescue dog barking - will even stick the package inside our door (permission granted), if it's unlocked.

He delivers day and night. One day, he dropped off a package before I had my first cup of coffee in my robe, and left one after 8:30 pm that night.

I do not scare him with my morning "Einstein" hair and pjs, sitting at the table writing.

He introduced himself to both my husband and me on separate occasions. With no prompting. Held out his hand. And he's under age 30. Where did the old-school manners come from?

I see them in their brown uniforms, when I sometimes drop off my commuting husband at the Steamship Terminal for the early boat. Off they troop, lunch bags in hand, looking young, determined, even eager to start their shifts for the day.
Oh we've had regular UPS deliveries on the Mainland, but not with this kind of connection.

And frankly, there have been times here I have been less than impressed.

You might remember my 17 steps-of-terror story.

But now here's a new man in town, and his name is Kevin.

No more  "drop-shipping" our exercise bike off the back of the truck to the driveway below.
No more taking out the gravel driveway to the tune of $400.
And no more "Deliveries of a Thousand Days." Remember that story?

No siree.
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these
"sea-born" couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

Except of course, a canceled boat schedule. :)

Have a good one.  :)

Parlez Vous New Anglais? Or As They Say Here, Rs Ah Fa Losahs

www.bostonaccentsco.com

Sometimes, that's what it seems like here.
Moving to a new place requires a lot of you.

But I didn't think language acquisition would be one of them!

Yes, I have been North and I have been South and I have been West, but I find moving East to New England, the Cape and Islands in particular, and trying to understand the "slanguage" - it's a bit like, well, like being a fish out of water.

Rule #1. No ifs ands or buts: try to talk like an Islander.
Example.
I am, of course,  a "wash-ashore" - someone not born on the Island, but that doesn't preclude me from learning the language tricks of the trade, so-to-speak.

When I drive Southwest to Aquinnah, Menemsha or Chilmark, I drive "up-island" - indicating longitude markings, rather than realtime directions.
When I travel, I go "off-island."
And when I tell people where I'm from, it's "The Vinyid."

Rule #2. Conversing with people from Boston and understanding them means you have to remember, for the most part, there are no "r"s in Boston speech.
Example.
Something you drive is a "cawh."
Where you put said "cawh" is a "pawhking" lot.
And there may be a "pawhty" going on near where you "pawhk," if you are game.
If you are game, said party could be "wicked pissah." (meaning really, reeeeeally good)

Rule #2. Names for foods and drink are tricky.
Example.
If you want a sub sandwich, you order a grinder.
And buns are bulkies.
If you want a milkshake, you order a frappe not a milkshake, or you will get just that - milk and flavoring shaken.
If you want chowdah, it's the milk-based variety NEVER the tomato-based concoction.
And, if you are looking for the water fountain, ask for the "bubblah."
If it is late, and you need milk, one of the only places that stays open late is "Cumbies" (Cumberland Farms). And, if you plan on a boat-load of food, you will be putting it in a "carriage" not a cart.

Rule #3. State-related language is also approved here.
Example.
If you are so inclined, getting into a fight here in New England is confusing.
You could "whale" on a person, but if arrested and put into a "cruiser" by possibly a "Statie," you might eventually become a "wicked losah."

And honestly, if you go "off-island" to "The Cape" and drive any real distance, it's almost as if you can't drive legitimately if you don't cut off people, use no blinker, drive at speeds that approach the speed of light and have no patience "whatsoevah" for other drivers on the road. For that you earn the name, "Masshole." :)

See what I mean? Am I even in America, lol?

I'm not sure why all these expressions cropped up, but I'm betting, like everything else here, it probably all began, like it does everywhere else, with the weather.

It's cold, you're snowbound, people didn't travel like they do nowadays. So being stuck in one place, with a lack of a lot of outside language influences, you can't continue to say, "hand me the thingy over there by the whatchamacallit." So Voila! a local expression is born.

As for me, being the new kid on the block, I will play it "wicked smaht," listen intently when Yankees speak and remember two things:

When it doubt, lose the "R." And....

Have a wicked pissah day. :)

Heck Part 2

Ok.
This is going to seem reeeeeealy funny to you.
Lol.

But we just got a call from Roadside Assistance, checking to see if our tow truck had arrived.
It's 3:20 in the morning.
Lol.

This after spending the entire, and I mean ENTIRE, day trying to get my disabled car off the island to the Mainland Dealership for repair.

It's like you can't get there from here.
No tow trucks will get on the boat - from either side.
For fear of spending up the nation's debt load in payment, I believe.

The process of getting a disabled car off the island is like a series of finely tuned pass-offs, the likes of which you only see in Olympic tag-teaming events.

After coordinating between the call-back Roadside Assistance Center in Toronto, Canada, the AAA tow truck here, the mainland dealership, the Roadside Assistance tow truck on the mainland and juggling my schedule, we establish a car reservation for today.
Then:

1. The tow truck tows the ailing car to the Steamship boat dock.
2. There it is manually pushed onto the boat.
3. It rides the boat in silence.
4. It is then pushed off the boat into the mainland parking area, to be picked up by mainland tow truck and towed to the dealership.
5. A very embarrassed and harassed driver must accompany the car at all times.
6. And this only costs an arm and a leg.


And all this is accomplishing during the same time as:

Planning, prepping and executing a 50th birthday party and dinner for 10
Last minute clean-up of the house for company
A freelance assignment interview with the local paper
Overseeing the septic upgrade issues taking place on my Mom's house

Wish me luck, lol.
Stay tuned....




Have a good one. :)

There's a Slight Chance I May Be Going to Heck....

Oh yes.
There is indeed a slight chance I may be going to Heck.

For I have done the unthinkable.

I have stopped the ferry boat from unloading in a timely fashion.

Yes, I did.
I do not own a rust bucket, rattle trap, beater or a clunker.
I do not own an "island car."
But, I do own a nice little, politically correct, hybrid all-wheel-drive auto.

And until today, I thought this 3-year-old car - which frankly, in "island car" years is NOTHING - was going to get me through rain, sleet, snow, dark of night and anything else that might stand in its way.

I did not anticipate other-worldly possession or electronic breakdown.
I did not anticipate what to do during said other-worldly, electronic breakdown possession.
And I surely did not anticipate having rude, post-menopausal women fall into conniption fits over the fact that my car would not start up when it was time to exit the boat.
So this must be where the words Fear-of-God come from.

We were in fact, coming ONTO the island, not OFF the island.
What in God's Good Name was there to be in a hurry about?

And if the dress-down in lane 4 wasn't enough, the fact that no one, but NO ONE, knew what to do when a hybrid auto would not start, was. Lol.

I have stumped plenty of people in my time, but never once over a smart-start, electric car.
Ok, well there was that one time when we pulled out of the local McDonald's, with the windows open, and we heard one very stoned individual exclaim to another as we drove by in quiet-start mode, "Dude, did you even hear that car start?"

But I will tell you that in my defense and good character, I in fact, kept my cool.
This being a very important point to remember, next to the fact that I had been escorting three, lovely octegenarian ladies around the local off-island stores for the better part of eight hours.

I was tired, my feet hurt and I was aiming to get home before Dancing With The Stars started.
My aim was off.

Ok. Well, my aim was off when it came to the timeline.
It was not off, however, when I got pushed down the boat ramp and was left to roll to a humiliatingly slow stop in front of the Steamship Authority Building in the Bus Lane.
It was a good thing we were on one of the last boats to set sail that night.

I thought in this land of Good and Plenty that having a nice little, politically correct, hybrid all-wheel- drive auto would be enough.

But apparently, I need also to know how to revive such an animal.
And in front of untold numbers of disgruntled boat customers.

When the AAA tow-truck guy finally arrived, all he could do was shake his head in wonder and laugh a little.
And offer to keep it on the flatbed tow truck overnight.

Because the only way to get the nice little, politically correct, hybrid all-wheel-drive auto to the Toyota dealership on the Mainland, would entail dropping it back off at the SSA parking lot in the morning, pushing the little focker onto the boat, letting it ride in silence, and finally pushing it off the boat on the other side for the dealership to pick up.

Well, they ought to make it easier to be a nice little, politically correct, all-wheel-drive auto owner on the island.

And if what I heard over whispers is true, I am certain they have saved me a place in line for Heck, too.





Check your oil, and have a Good One. :)

Final Week and It's ALLL Good!

The Immelts have hit the Derby board bigtime!
Columbus Day has been good to us lol!

My niece Julie is the Weekly Leader and and the Weekly Female Leader for Boat Bluefish catagory in the Martha's Vineyard Striped Bass & Bluefish Derby. This the final week, so it could be a LOCK!!!!
We are all very excited.:)

The proof is in the pudding.  Friends (Cara, Sue and Steve!) and Family (Julie and Stephanie!) fishing and the Weigh In:

Have a good one. :)

CAmP RuNnAmucK-ness

Hubby just said, "I hope the house is in one piece when I get back," as he left for his consulting trip.

Me, too.

We are... ok let's face it, I am, for the time being...  dog-sitting Rescue Pup Neela for Andy and Jenna, while they take a quick trip South to scout out Fla. fishing.

Now you would think dog-sitting on the Vineyard is not so very different than the mainland.
Au Contraire, mon ami.
But see for yourself.

Dog-sitting Vineyard-style goes like this:

1. Wake up at the crack of Dog, go outside in your pjs (just cause you can!), stumble along the driveway gully with dog in tow for "morning" constitution.

2. Hurry back inside, because it is nippy out in the morning - and btw, does anything before 6 am constitute morning? Or is that still late night? - bat the warring cats away from the eager pup entering the house.

3. Feed everyone. Fix a cup of coffee. Ah.

4.Hear the string of bells hung at the door (for just this purpose) - Rescue Pup now needs to go "out" again after her morning meal for an additional "morning" constitution.

5. Trapse out again, step in mud, divert possible disaster by heading opposite direction of the wild turkey group that roams the Vineyard Haven - Edgartown Corridor (have we met? yes, we have. At the bank drive thru. See the post here), and finds our back yard interesting.

6.Yada, Yada, Yada, the day goes on, the dog settles in for her morning nap.

7. I am ready for a late morning walk. The dog wakes up, we head out.

8. This is a little sketchy as Rescue Pup has not walked with "Grammy" in a good long while. But we do well. The hitler collar, as I like to call it, or the pinch collar as it's properly known, is good, but largely not needed. Neela is an intuitive dog, sensing my "frailties" lol, and walks accordingly.

We hear some morning dog barking, a big black lab woofs its way to the end of its property, but I command, "stay back, stay" in a rather firm but quickly bordering on hysterical tone, and miracle upon miracle, the black lab obeys. Hm. I am Dog Whisperer.

9. We make it back in one piece, where I prepare an early lunch, and read emails. Neela settles into her "chair."

10. We are now ready for our afternoon ride. We head out.

I digress for the moment, to explain that the first command a pup learns here is "Get in the truck."
And they do! You can't have a truck on the Vineyard without the requisite Dog Sticking Head Out Window.
It just doesn't happen. And even better, if the dog is a black lab (for the iconic Black Dog of Martha's Vineyard - the Tavern, Cafe, two working schooners, etc.) (And let's not forget the t-shirt a Head Of State once purchased for an "intern" with the Black Dog emblazoned on it.).

 I now say, "get in the truck," not because I have one, or that we are using one, but because I, for one am not tempting fate. We enjoy a nice time of driving with the dog's head out window, me stopping for errands, dog patiently waiting in car - she has this down pat :) - without complaints, and a quick stop to SBS (the local feed store) for a doggie treat! Good Dog.

11. Back to the hacienda, where 3 perturbed cats wait.

12. The day rolls on. At one point there is a very rousing game of treasure hunt, where, to keep occupied, Neela's parents have hidden treats and treasures for her to find. This is my cue to take a break.

13. Just before dinner, we inspect, in no particular order, the driveway gully again, the edge of the wildlife preserve, where I frantically steer pup away from a huge patch of poison ivy ( the island's "state" flower, if you ask me), and spend a few valuable moments wiping the dog's coat with a baby wipe where she decided to perfume herself with a patch? of questionable origin by rolling in it.

14. Dinner is quiet, but my "sous chef" is willing to taste test any ingredient I deem necessary, or that drops on the floor, whichever comes first.


15. By 11 pm we retire, each to our own beds, Neela to the guest bedroom, thank goodness. Neela is a bed-hogger.

And that's just Day 1.

Have a good one. :)

Teach a man to fish....

REMINDER: The Derby Committee strongly discourages parents from taking children out of school to go fishing or Juniors fishing during school hours. It is unsportmanlike to do so when other juniors are in school. We expect parents to support this commitment to education and good sportsmanship.

- notice from the current Derby website

You know, some parents will take their kids out of school to travel the world.
But here, they take them out to fish.

Have a good one. :) 

WIP Wednesday: The One Where She May Have Taken On One Too Many

Oh Lord, what have I gotten myself into.

You would think after selling two houses, buying another, moving out of two houses into another, promptly not unpacking, and eventually helping transition Mom to Assisted Living and then prepping her house for sale would be enough for the year.

But no.
I have to decide if I am Super Woman.

And If I can stupidly go where no man would ever dare go: the local knitting group.

I can see you shaking your head.
What has this got to do with island living?

And I tell you this.
Everything.

A knitting group in the East on an island is like a microcosm of Yankee Living.
Hell, any group in the East on an island is, lol.
Think your local legends, plus intensity.
And I am a wash-ashore (one who is not from the island but moves here).

But I digress.
My first foray into local fare started when I received an email via Ravelry from a lovely Englishwoman planning to visit the island to spend time with relatives. She wanted to attend a knitting group, and wondered if I knew of one.

Oh the pressure.
Was I ready to commit to island living among a local group?

I guess.

So I did.
Amid rainstorm and dark-of-night, we went... torch-carrying, (her term for flashlight), knitbag-toting, rainboot-wearing spectacles of foreign matter.


And it was good.
Like a nervous Nelly on the first day of school, but after awkward introductions, we dove right in. Rather, Meg (the visitor) did, lol. Losing no time, she broke right through the Yankee barrier with her warm and friendly chatter and knitting show-and-tell (can that woman knit!).

I ,on the other hand, knit silently getting the lay of the land.

We met the ubiquitous New England Stalwart, bustling, bristly, but the first one to offer help, the Local Expert (who with a quick turn of her head in thought was able to solve most knitting puzzles that evening), the Dazzler - that one in the group who has the best, the most detailed and pretty much all-time awesome show of a project, the Rebel - the one who chooses to do her own way and it looks fab, and others I save for a another rainy-day post. 

Suffice it to say in the East, people Knit In Winter.

And by the end, I didn't feel so new-like-a-shiny-penny, was thoroughly welcomed into the fold and found that unlike some generalizations about New Englanders, these people were friendly, warm and accepting.

Now I could have been intimidated, but I was not.
I think.

I immediately went home and cast about for waaay too many knitting projects for Works-In-Progress Wednesday.
Here they are:


Burly Spun Wrap

 

 free Rapunzel snowboarding hat


And








Alene's Wrap










Next week, I am prepared.
Ok. Overprepared.
But next week, I will go back, and with a better project and better yarn.
Possibly, local yarn.
That should do it, lol.




Buy handmade and have a Good One. :)

525,600 Minutes or My Blog: A Work In Progress - WIP Wednesday

To celebrate the one-year anniversary of my blog, I give you the year in my island life.
I know, I know. It's a crazy life, but it's my life, and I love it. Enjoy!

Have a good one. :)

 

(music by the cast of Rent - Seasons of Love)

The Problem With Doing Nothing...

... is you never know when you are done.
Right?

And, I am certain that difficulty finding motivation from time to time is not wholly the fault of living on an island.
But it's close, lol.

What with Hurricane Irene and Labor Day Weekend, the last several days bringing gray skies, rain, and more rain, it is becoming Letdown  Central around here.

Now normally, one would tend to push beyond the abyss, "man" up and get a butt in gear.

But today, I take a different approach.
What if, for today, being productive is actually counterproductive?

When I lived in America the Mainland, it was go, go, go, make the most out of every day, because, frankly, who else is going to do it? We have to make a living, keep the house going, and take care of others.

But what if, I stop a moment, and look towards improving my day rather than my productivity?

What if I put the breaks on speed and downshifted into slowing down, just a bit, and find the joy in whatever it is I am doing?

So in that light, I offer the following:

1. Just for today, stop trying to arrange the clutter, but clear the clutter instead.
Take the wastebasket, throw 5 things into it and be done with it.
Because, really, if you have less around, there's no need to arrange, store or otherwise fiddle with the extras, right? 5 less pieces of paper, 5 less things in the frig, 5 less outgrown, outworn, or out-of-style wardrobe pieces means less to deal with.

2. Just for today, list 1 to-do, not a dozen, and hey, what a concept, DO only it.

3. Just for today, when on that treadmill, don't, I REPEAT, DO NOT count the minutes, the mileage, the more, more, more in my head. Just run like the wind, and enjoy the feeling ( ok walk like the wind, but you get the picture). Stop when you feel the urge, not when the clock tells you to.

4. Just for today, work on something I love, something I can't stand another minute without working on. I know, I know, I hear you saying "But the other needs to get done." I get it. See, if it can wait, just one day,  just a day to regroup, or if not a day, a morning, or an afternoon. Allow myself a piece of time to do that thing I love, and I bet I will see an uptick in overall productivity in the end.

5. And Just for today, stop multitasking and take on the moment for being in the moment. Just sit and be.

So that's it. Maybe the point is to do nothing you normally do, and see what gets done.
Better.
It might do a body good.
Anywhere.



Have a creative one. :)

Look, Don't-Try-This-At-Home-Kids or The Dawning of The Age of Reason

We saw it coming.
Yes, we did.

Our neighbors rent during the summer.
And the renters are quiet, quiet, quiet.
But one week each season they allow their young adult child to use the house.
With friends.

Last year, the young adult child and friends serenaded us nightly.
Till at least 2 am.
Usually "Kokomo."
But sometimes, other badly sung, but otherwise popular ditties from the 70s - 90s.
Accompanied by a rather loudly played acoustic guitar (I didn't know this was even possible).
Think high school singing group.

Eventually, they quieted down after some gentle prodding.
And all was well.

Until yesterday.
365 days later.

Now in this land o' vacation plenty, one rental unit does not a large complaint make.
There by the grace of God go I and all that.
However.
We may have hit the limit.

Said Neighbor's Young Adult Child came back, lol.
Again, with friends.
Another year older, and wiser, we thought.

Think again.

It all started rather innocently.

We had had a guest over the weekend, and were busy doing touristy things, so at first we didn't notice.
But since our guest was a bit on the youthful side, she noticed first.

A bit o' flurry at the neighbor's.
Raised voices, laughter, floating over the acreage. All ok.
Until the canoe.
In the backyard.
And some busyness with lots of tape and garbage bags.
Ideas fueled by a hot afternoon of alcohol and whatnot.

We discretely "peeked" as we headed out the driveway.

In all its glory... an honest-to-goodness homemade, adult Slip n' Slide.

Complete with portable outdoor shower appliance attached to the garden hose, to grease the skids, poised at the top of the "ever so slight" incline of their back yard.

Which incidentally ends in a woody, shrubby strip that abuts our long gravel driveway.
And Filled With Poison Ivy.

At the end of the yard? Propped up by two rather large logs from the woodpile was a looooong metal ladder, blocking entrance to the poison ivy. Just to make sure it was solid when they hit it. Lol.

And the kicker?
The full-length canoe back at the top.

Uh-oh.
This was accompanied by the all important overheard shout, "Do you think anyone will get hurt?" Ensuing laughter.
Good question.

Our Better Parent Instincts took over.
Hubby and and I looked at each other, then at our Youthful Guest.

"Don't even touch it," she said with the wisdom of youth under her belt. At this point,  they wouldn't be listening to reason anyway, she speculated.

We went on to supper and entertaining....

At about 10:30 pm we heard it through the muffled sounds of the room a/c (and they don't live that close).
Cheering, cheering, cheering, Thunk.
A short cry out.
Listening, listening, listening, nothing.
No tearing out of cars headed to ER.
No 911 lights and action.
No police cars with bubble lights.

They were, ehem, somewhat safe.
Our Better Parent Instincts relaxed.

In the morning, we glanced over again, as we headed out for morning coffee.
Forlorn garbage bags, somewhat askew, ruffling lightly in the wind.
The canoe, nowhere in sight. Logs and ladder plowed down.

Eventually, we sent Hubby over for - we will admit this blatantly - a little safety recon, and to introduce himself.
"Are you enjoying yourselves?" G asked with the innocence of a father with a kid.
"Oh yes," they returned.
"How'd the Slip n' Slide go?" G countered.
"Pretty good!" they admitted with laughter.
"Anybody get hurt?" G asked.
"Oh... I did," a rather sheepish-looking young gentleman confessed.
They all had a good laugh at that, and G returned to our house, satisfied all was well.


I am happy to report, the rest of the week is going swimmingly with the group next door.
Just a short hootenany and keg standing the next night.
Then the Age of Reason took over.

Until next year.
We figure she has to grow up sometime lol.
Bye, bye Miss American Pie. :)

Have a good one. :)