Paint. Wind.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
In which the boys are themselves as usual…
What else did a Saturday morning entail, but Minecraft for the boys. O, yes. Nothing had changed there.
By 11:30, the Silverspoons had joined the other Silverspoons, who had been reduced to Gloria for the weekend. Theodore was in Denver. And Gloria was painting the living room and the hall.
“It all started with that table I was was thinking about getting for the dining room. So I thought I’d paint and change the look… And then I decided I didn’t want the table after all…”
Removing some of the floorboards revealed a previous owner’s decision to adorn the living room walls with salmon pink. This would have certainly been the height of fashion in, o say… never. Probably the same owners who had decided that the shutters of the house should be painted a dark turquoise, which was apparently coming back into vogue again…
As usual, conversation with the boys was always an interesting experience…
“Nana!” Puck exclaimed. “My house is just like your house! With a bed and a living room!”
“Imagine, imagine!” Gloria replied.
“No, Nana, it’s real! I’m serious!”
Lunch was soon in question.
Puck had thoughts, “Dad. I would like a sandwich. Cheese. And no sauce.”
“I’m watching my calorie intake,” was Collette’s answer.
“If you’re trying to lose pounds, cut off a leg,” was OLeif’s reply. “That’ll do it for you. You’ll be just like your old favorite character from Lord of the Rings: Leg-o-less. Ha… Ha.”
“Did you all get something from Luke and Leia recently?” Gloria then called down the stairs.
“Like what, a sickness?” OLeif replied.
OLeif then went out for the hunt and returned with chicken tenders and kettle-fried potato chips. Although Puck decided, instead, to share a plate of meat with his Nana.
And the wind was up. High.
In the mild gray of the late afternoon…
OLeif de-painted a patch of the carpet with ice cubes.
He then snoozed for under an hour.
A half-bag, each, of Twix and Nestle Crunch bars were brought up from the basement freezer.
Snickers sneaked inside through the deck door open to the fresh winds, to curl up on Puck’s stomach.
And the wind was galing into the night.