Mountain Home, Arkansas
When we eat supper in the new house we all solemnly take our blood pressures. Mine has dropped to 121/76 which I attribute to the new diet of fruit and fish. That which doesn't kill me makes me stronger. There was a time when none of us thought about blood pressure that much. We don't discuss regularity yet, but we see the future.
Two evenings we go out on the old pontoon boat (the Ratty Bastard) and bar-b-q and swim in Lake Norfork until after dark. The motor is a 55 horse, 1977 Johnson. Usually it can be coaxed to start. It's all decorated in redneck chic: tiki torrches, American flags, astro turf and plastic lawn chairs. Paul tore off the roof attempting to dock last week so we jump in quickly.
We will have to boogey after Labor Day to make my nephew's the wedding in Alpine, New York next weekend. It's 1200 miles.
Our friends in Smith Mountain Lake, Virginia, tell us that they are selling their new house and boats and moving to Annapolis. They have decided, after a year, that they don't like country living. They are disappointed with the country club. That means our plan to buy a house there is out the window. Mrs. Phred and I admit to each other that we didn't really want to live there anyway.
I got one coat of yellow on the big house Wednesday and then ran out of paint. I used a rectangular aluminum hand-held paint shield to keep any over spray off the windows and shingles. The spray-gun does a good job of one-coat coverage. The local paint store is out of that paint. We're on deadline now and may have to make a run into Harrisonville two hours away. I have exterior doors to finish this morning, then a decision about the run west.
After some thought, I call my old boss, the CEO, and tell him I'm ready for this vacation to end and want to work. He says he has projects for me. He doesn't say what. He wants me to call a week before we hit Tampa. I worked for him for 22 years before this two year vacation. With this piece in place, our plans are fixed until at least the end of February.