Getting Things Done

Saturday, February 17, 2007

The wind was up that morning. Giant icicles hung from the roof.

Frances’ team did better that time around – a loss, 23 to 32 – quite an improvement. Francis was awarded a gray star for offense, for getting himself in the best positions to make baskets, and for good scoring. He did make several nice shots during the game and seemed to be enjoying it more and more as the weeks progressed.

Meanwhile, Mom was telling Collette that the ski group had been out until four in the morning. Apparently, after having gone down the bunny slopes a few times, Francis took on some new ideas. Joe had been at the bottom of the hill and had suddenly seen Francis sitting in the ski lift to go up to the black slopes.

“Oh no!” He said.

But it was too late, and from there, Francis had hit the big hill, and not with a gentle zig-zag down the slope, but a straight fast shot from top to bottom. Once – on one ski. So, yes, he had definitely learned how to ski by the time the night was out.

Back at home, Mom returned from the graduation meeting and worked the bulletin-folding assembly line with Dad and Linnea over Dracula until midnight. Carrie-Bri, who had downed more than a half gallon of apple cider in one sitting, sometime that night, threw up. Linnea, obviously feeling some sort of empathy for Carrie’s plight, quickly followed suit. For all the energy both girls had, they seemed to lose their groceries very quickly.

But Carrie felt well enough to head into work the next morning at nine o’clock. Joe and Rose, who were both still asleep during Francis’ game, had plans to join the rest of the youth (and whoever else would come) at Bob B.’s black belt testing that afternoon at three o’clock, followed by a reception at the Buckle house.

Apparently Joe, Wallace, and Curly had plans to wear shirts spelling out his name – one with a “B”, one with an “O”, and one with a “B”, to cheer him on. Mom gave Joe a roll of colored tape to craft the letters onto their shirts.

Also come Saturday afternoon, the plumber arrived. Collette was beginning to wonder how long it would take to bring them into a civilized state at the house. A week of dishes piled on the counters and in the dishwasher (waiting to be washed once the main drain was unclogged), no good long showers available, no fresh laundry (also because of the clogged drain and the lack of a dryer vent), and mounds of trash (from the previous owner and from the leftovers of the move). It would be nice to have things fixed up.

So while the plumber worked on the drains, pulling up interesting things such as tree roots (which meant that the tree in the front lawn was eating into the drain and would have to be cut down, among other irritants), and the home-seller installed the dryer vent (as promised), OLeif did some overseeing and fixed up a website for Christ Presbyterian Church. And Collette tried not to feel so very heavy.