The neighborhood sounded like a TV war zone day and night with the pop of firecrackers and whistle of rockets along with occasional explosions leaving one wondering of personal injury or permanent hearing damage was involved. July 3 and we painted the barns. Vanessa made a list of tasks. Her shower drain fell apart under the house, who knows how long ago. I heard water under the house while she was hosing down and found it. Debating hundreds on a plumber or me in the crawl spaces as I write this. Homeowner hell. I try to not think about my prognosis, but I do not have a good feeling at this writing, and wonder if I will see another Christmas. I finished the 67 Mustang and it is on display. I finished the rocket kit and am preparing for a launch when the wind and weather and my energy cooperate. Building the kits has kept me occupied during down times, and at night when sleep evades me.
Using the mechanical skills and parts of the brain required to do the job has been good for me as well. I do not have the skill of the artist, but I do have the will. Each model has obvious flubs and flaws in the trim and finish department, traditionally one of my weaker areas. Over the 4th we traveled to Mom L’s with the grand dog, painted the barns (Vanessa did the heavy lifting), scraped gutters for paint (Vanessa did the heavy lifting) and went through the boxes of Mom C’s photos and memorabilia sorting out the savers. I scanned some of the photos in as a start. All in all it was a very productive 3 days for a couple of old folks. We did miss the fireworks this year. So the week end ended with us too pooped to pop, so to speak. The heat is back with a vengeance, reaching 99 here yesterday.
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