White Lightning Axiom: Redux

Sunday is usually my most active day of the week. Not sure how this happens, but it seems to be habitual. Even if I managed to cool my heels for one day, my recidivist ways would take over and I would work twice as hard the following Sunday. I guess it's in my genes. I started the day by hauling Alexis off to church since Jake decided he would be better off hanging with Mommy at home. It was the normal Family mass and since the basement chapel opened, we headed down into the damp bowels of the building. Alexis immediately emptied her back-pack to see what goodies I had stashed away for her. There was a little 2+ year old boy down at the other end of the pew and he was intrigued by the containers of marshmallows, cashews and gummy-bears. As he crept closer, I asked Alexis if she would be nice enough to share some of her booty with the little boy. From then on we had ourselves a little tea-and-book party in the pew. He just was not interested in going back to his flustered mother. It was cute to see the two of them sitting side by side on the kneeler ... munching away and turning the pages of an oversized book with those thick cardboard covers. Fortunately, as fate would have it, I pack enough food-stuffs to feed several hungry marines so we did not even get close to running out. But alas, mass ended and we evacuated to the SuperSaturn ... which was blocked in. We had to wait another 10 minutes till the right set of curb-surfers made it to their cars and released us.

Back to the Manor, and out again. We loaded up the family and trundled off to Mr Wilson's house of Bamboo and poultry. When we got there, he was mowing his yard. He was surprised to see us show up, I guess he does not get a lot of follow-up on his inquiries. The kids truly enjoyed the chickens and were startled to see the eggs in the coop. Even more shocked when they felt the warmth from the eggs that we were given as parting gifts. I fear that if I have to explain exactly where the eggs were prior to their delivery, they will no longer be a staple of breakfast. We'll have to do something nice for Mr Wilson. I think he is either a bachelor or a widower. Perhaps a nice fruitcake or bottle of Vignole or Shiraz.

After we stopped off at the Manor and deposited the bamboo runners, it was time to take a trip to BJ's wholesale to do a bit of shopping. Nothing fancy, but since I was hungry we ended up buying much more than expected. All we needed was some popcorn chicken nuggets and a bag of Swedish meatballs. In the end, I'm certain we spent closer to 200$ in foodstuffs. Urk. Me and my hollow gut. After ravaging the local food repositories, I shuttled the family back to the manor to get some weekend labor in gear. While the Mrs stayed warm inside, I went out back to plant the bamboo at the edge of the property and to bring up as much wood as possible to the staging area. So from 1200 till 2000, I ran that wheel barrow into the ground going all the way from the corner wood pile to the patio and back again. Fill the tub, empty the tub, stack the wood. In the end, I've brought up ALL the wood except for a few large chunks that need to be reduced a bit. After I get those white pine trees taken down in the back, I'll have to order another delivery of tree-trunks and start all over again. I shudder at the though. Of course, the thought has passed my mind that I could burn the wood from the white pines, but the cresol would certainly cause a chimney fire and that is not something I would want to deal with at the moment ... or ever. I still remember the problems my High-School sweetheart and her family had when they had to deal with that. Messy is an understatement.

Monday morning. I'm sore, but not as sore as I'm going to be when I try to get on the road. I get up late. Very late. I try to make up time but cutting corners and revving the internal engine, but alas, for naught. I get about 2 miles from the manor when I hear it on the am 1060 news radio. There is a 3 tractor-trailer pile-up on the east-bound turnpike. Well, that should not be too bad since I'm going West. However, the looky-lous have popped in and caused 3 different accidents in the west-bound lanes. One of them is at my on-ramp and effectively closes the entrance down. The local roads in the vicinity are paralyzed. I try to avoid the choked arteries but find myself shoulder to shoulder with dozens of like-minded souls. Soon, I'm going no-where fast so I start to take the lesser-known local roads ... like everyone else. It's no use. I've managed to get 20% of the distance to my destination and see gridlock everywhere I go. I opt to just get on the turnpike at the Fort Washington Sliplane. Nope, blocked. Then something strange occurs. I'm all queued up to get to the toll gate and the traffic starts to move rapidly. Ok, I guess we are getting diverted ... to the Expo Center! Argh! Apparently I was in line to get Flu Shots instead of getting on the turnpike. Fine. I give up. Perhaps God was just telling me that it would be a good idea for me to get jabbed. So I head on in and get inoculated within 15 minutes. It's strange, that among the 200 or so elderly (yeah, I counted), they pick me out and ask if I have some sort of prescription or card saying that my immune system needs this. Since the county health officers were completely overwhelmed, they did not push the issue when I told them that I had no proof on me that I had a good reason to be there. A shrug of the shoulders and I'm queued up for the needle. I hate needles. Man, do I hate needles. However, these nurses were PROS! It was in and out before I could finish the 'I don't like needles much' complaint. Now I just have to wait for the inevitable aches that I get with these things. Ahh, good times. Although, the real flu isn't half as bad as the side effects I would get from the ABC injections. Perspective.

# posted by mdmhvonpa @ 12:36 PM