A Father Carries Pictures Where His Money Used To Be

My sis arranged a whole Father’s Day shebang and then failed to show up! Sure she cites being in Indiana or Illinois for work but that’s no excuse! OK, actually planning the whole thing in advance was pretty impressive since we were all assigned a food item and told to assemble at the farm on Sunday which we all did (except her) and we all had foodz. That went over quite well but I can still tease her about not showing.

It was also a hangar warming party so we got the grand tour of the almost fully armed and mostly operational battle hangar. Here’s Mr. Paul and TheMan being all manly at the side door.

And here’s a…heater thing which looks like something out of Dr. Who. It is not, however, the space age jet engine heater of doom which needs a ladder tipped down and parked in front of it soas people walking by the beastie don’t have their pants burned off when the thermostat trips. I understand that is reserved for the coldest of days.

The inside fini. I last saw the building when it was but a skeleton of wooden framing and swaying about a foot back and forth in the wind. It made it quite a bother to get a good plumb I am told, but I bet the bob would have made an awesome Zen sketchy thing if there happened to be a tub of sand underneath it.

We had the picnic table, grill and some chairs out by the hangar and all sorts of foodz to munch on. TheMan and I were in charge of appetizers and had some grand plans to that end, but also had five engagements to attend that weekend. Ergo, we picked up a Kroger party special, some hummus and extra crackers and called it good. It was too; apparently spicy jalapeno hummus is the bomb.

Lucy prefers cheese and turkey bits though. And the occasional finger.

Here’s mumses and Mr. Paul’s mom on the swing.

We wound up having to move the whole kit and caboodle because our foodz was smack dab in the middle of a wren’s flight path to her house. She was all hot and bothered about her babies so we relocated a tad to give her some piece of mind. She was able to get to her house but I’m under the impression that wrens are rather nervous little things and never truly achieve a state of peaceful mindedness.


Meat griller! This is Sis’s husband whom I still do not have a good nickname for. I’m considering bro-IL but I’m not sure I like how close it is to broil. Besides, it has a hyphen which is out of the normal type-y range and therefore a character I’d have to think about. I hate thinking.

Dogs need treats too! Poor starving little cocker.

For amusement, we played with Lucy and the wrist rocket dog ball launcher. Do you want the ball? Do you? Do you?

Well go get it!

Go go go!

Good girl!

You can only run back and forth so many times before you take your ball and go home. Or under the table. This is one tired out pup!

Mr. Paul’s mom has some sweet plantage growing around the farm which I took the opportunity to photograph. That’s an arch thingit with some columbine and a giant lilac tree next to it. That’s not even their biggest lilac tree either. I thought we had some lilac Gojira but I am humbled.

Clematis! I’m thinking all sorts of fun thoughts about getting one of these plants for climbing around the gardens somewhere. This one looks like cousin It…

but it has really pretty flowers. Big too, about the three or four inches in diameter.

This is not a flower or a plant but rather the burn pit. Apparently, my mumses and Mr. Paul’s mom are little fire bugs and have managed to crack most of the cinderblocks with the heat generated by their fires. On the plus side, you don’t see any scrap wood lying about with those two around.

This is just a neat little defunct stone cooking jobber hanging around in the back yard.

To round out the evening, we saw a balloon tootling about in the air. I guess they are warming up for the grand Howell balloon-a-thon. Or whatever. Balloon!

Last year at the booniverse: JSFR: Konpeito

Last last year at the booniverse: Dogone tired, no posting.

The year before at the booniverse: At least it finally looks like I’m 41 pages from end of the book, which is a miracle since it seemed like I was perpetually almost halfway through.

The year before that at the booniverse: Next week I’m not only off to Origins in sunny Ohio for the fun and the Smithee Awards and Bucca de Beppa, if the Smith-ka-teers are willing to eat there again, but I’m also going Out Of Town and Wont Be At Work. Very important.

One Response to “A Father Carries Pictures Where His Money Used To Be”

  1. TheMan Says:

    Bro-IL is the perfect nickname when you pair it up with that picture of him at the grill…

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