Blast in the New
I started the last day of the year with six and a half hours sleep, a quarter teaspoon salt down the hatch, and Puck bobbing his head to Daft Punk, The Sunbeams, and Justin Timberlake over a plate of toast and eggs, nest-style.
“Drink your water, Puck. But don’t chug it, please.”
“Mom.” Smarmy eyebrows. “I am a professional at chugging.”
When Bær returned from a mostly newsless brunch at First Watch with Boy, visiting now from New Mexico, Mollie, working at the language immersion school in the city, and Bob Buckle, Puck and I had packed ourselves to join the family ice skating in Florissant.
A cold, but not too cold, sunny afternoon for two hours at the rink. Short Dad and Francis (working) and Linnea (Iowa), but plus Jaya, Ricky, Grandma, and Uncle Mo, who didn’t skate but came by to chat with Grandma and Mom over the free popcorn and soda. Laced on a pair of truly ancient skates with snapped laces that bit my ankles. I thought I felt some rolled tendons on a few of those turns. I think Joe was the only one who could show off any true speed. Even tossed the coat after awhile. Puck was valiant once more, determined to loop the rink himself. Grandma got to chat with the mayor again. However, my ankles were in such intense pain, I clocked out half an hour early. Then the wagon train headed back west.
Back at the Big House, the party kicked off with Rose’s Cardinal red coyote-fur-lined hooded parka in the mail. Dad and Francis joined in for Stefanina’s pizzas and bottled Fitz’s root beer set in a case on the patio to keep cold. The four or five boys, Puck included, began to build up the bonfire, which is always a show in and of itself, for marshmallows, laser pointers, and fireworks displays. At one point Francis walked by with a chain saw. Joe and Jaya missed out on most of this, however, because of the five New Years parties they had already been invited to. But by this time Lucia and Grewe had also stopped in to talk about aliens, donut-shaped universes, zombies, pirates, and ninjas. After Francis unloaded a particularly loud stack of fireworks, obliterating the debris into even smaller debris, we adjourned inside for Bill Cosby in “Ghost Dad” and “Lone Ranger” with boxes of gooey butter cake and cookies, until more fireworks at midnight. Francis and Ricky tried variations on a theme of bottle rockets and hot coals.
Happy 2014.