Saturday, October 30, 2004
This past Friday was a lot of fun. The grandparents were coming down for the Halloween weekend. Since they were not going to arrive till after 2100, we thought we would let the kids stay up till then. This is not a decision we typically render with little thought to the consequences. It most cases, the twins go completely berserk and begining to turn on one another. Something about that witching hour of 2000 has an adverse chemical reaction in their tiny forming minds. This time, we lucked out. They were much more interested in playing than in 'mortal combat'. There was much adulation to the Lord for that grace he bestowed upon us. When Grams and Gramps did arrive, we sent the kids down to the wing of the house where they would enter to greet them. Hugs and kisses abounded, followed shortly by the 'tugging of hands' towards the play room. Grand benefits for the Grand parents. Bath and bed followed shortly after a short round of playing and showing of toys.
The next morning, the kids were up at the crack of dawn (along with the dogs). After milk and diaper change, they traipsed down to the guest room and proceeded to snuggle with Grams and Gramps. They were on their best behavior. It was almost like the KNEW that something good was coming down the pike. This was good for me since I had to bring Thor to the vet to show off his bacteria/yeast infested ears once again. I hate to leave the kids when they are in a GOOD mood for once. I usually only get time with them in the evening when they are in a contentious/pissy mood in the evenings. The Mrs wanted me to take my car to the vet since she thought that she might want to use the Family Tank. That, or she did not want Thor's hair all over the place. Either way, trying to shoe-horn a 110lb mastodon into the front passenger seat of the SuperSaturn was not a simple task. Thor is not too keen on being in moving vehicles and tends to cry the whole time the car is in motion. Damn sissy dog. The whole trip to the vet pretty much consisted of him laying his front paws and head in my lap and staring woefully up at me. The minute we are out of the car, he is happy as a lark. Prancing about the parking lot like he has no care in the world. He gets even more exuberant when we get inside. He gets his ears inspected twice and they proclaim that same thing as last time. And the time before that ... and before that. The write a new prescription and take him to the back room to get irrigated. I hear him whimpering away in the waiting room as the technicians go to town on him. Soon enough, he comes bounding out into the front office with one of the technicians being dragged behind him like some kind of damaged anchor. The trip back to the Manor is pretty much identical to the vet. Whimpers and sniveling. Wuss dog.
The second big event for the day is getting a hair cut. Same place, same barber, same precision cut. No accidents. What else is there to say. Only thing is that I can never seem to remember what road it is on. I always think it is on Street Road when I damn well know it is on County Line Rd. Go figure. Stupid memory tricks are not working for this one and I don't get haircuts frequently enough to impress it in my mind.
The Amish-Dad and I spent a big chunk of time chopping wood in the back yard. I would bring my maul down on a particularly difficult round only to have it bounce off. He would take his Maul and just drop it in the same location and the target chunk of wood would magically cleave off. I accused him of using a corked bat. He laughed. It was not a matter of strength, but rather, his maul head was concave while mine was convex. He could get the head to stick and make some progress while I had to rely on brute force to make it split on the first whack. Needless to say, on the more unpleasant pieces of wood, our alternating attacks did reduce the more difficult rounds to slivers. Since he was the one who bought me the maul for Christmas many years ago, he felt pity on me and let me use his maul for the next few weeks till Thanksgiving. Corked bat, I tell you! In any event, that project is coming to a most satisfactory end. One of the more amazing events was the damage we managed to do to one of my wedges. The solid iron wedge got a 15 degree bend in it from an unusually burled piece of oak. Once the wedge was freed by attacks from the other side of the round, we had an opportunity to pound it back into shape ... mostly. It gives you an idea about how resilient this stuff is. Wood bends metal, who would have thought?
After all the dirty/exhausting work, we spent our time watching and participating in the kids play time. After their nap, of course. Jacob stuck to his new train-tracks, mountain, highway set we got from the Wife's cousin and Alexis did her best to interfere. Grams and Grams did bring down some new books for the kids and they spent a bit of time reading to the kids. We try to do that when we can, but the twins seem to consider the Grandparents as non-combatants and behave thusly. After a contentious bath where Jacob INSISTED on having one of the trains from the newish toys, we set the clocks back and pretty much called it a day. We will need that extra hour.