working holiday

I felt the need to do something traditionally Fourth of July-ish and so I grilled chicken brats for dinner. I like that so many people feel inclined toward splashy games and fireworks and barbeques and kid bike parades with red white and blue streamers today, but I do prefer a quiet July day to most anything else and so if given a choice, I'll pick lying low and working on projects close to home.

And man oh man, are we in the thick of a project. 

It's a day that calls for getting things done. And I mean seriously getting things done.

The need to address problems and mistakes starts early -- with a call from my nephew in Sweden. He is coming for a visit to the States (first to see his grandma in California and then, on Monday, to stay here, at the farmette) on a ticket that I obtained using Orbitz and lo and behold, Orbitz goofed and dropped several segments of his travel -- including his first one, leaving Sweden.

His issue does get patched (with a temporary fix), but it strikes me as interesting that in one day, I come face to face with mistakes that aren't supposed to happen. As life gets more complicated (and it does -- just ask the Internet or your smart phone -- they'll tell you so) the possibility of error seems not to diminish but to grow. Think of how many ways one can obtain a travel ticket now! Think of the automatic changes that are made, adjustments to changes that you can yourself initiate, think of the multiple airline record locators, think: room for error.

I suppose, too, there is room for error in manufacturing a patio door, though that one still befuddles me, since the error in our door was significant and the mistake wasn't just in one digit: we went from 88.875 inches (purchased) to 89.625 (received). How do you get from there to here?

Well, my nephew is landing in SF right now and I am staring at a patio door sitting in a frame that is affixed to the farmette walls, so obviously we all moved forward, errors notwithstanding, but we surely have spent a lot of time making corrections to things that shouldn't have gone wrong in the first place.


Our breakfast this morning is even more hurried, even more messy, but still fine and with a full view of the world outside the gaping hole.






Then Ed and I set to work. This time my involvement is significant and constant. Putting in the frame is tough enough. "Popping in" the doors is nearly impossible. The instructions do say that the doors are heavy and several persons are needed to handle them -- an illustration shows four burly men. Ed and I are a team of two, possibly the worth of 2.5 burly men (Ed has the strength of two, I come in as barely half a big bloke). So we knew this would be a challenge.

And it is.

I spend no time in my garden. The photo you see is what I see through the hole in the house.






Well, alright -- I do go to the grocery store to stock up on foods needed for the week ahead and on my way to and from the car, I pause to breathe in the deliciousness of the garden air.






By evening, the dirty work is behind us. There is of course much to be done still -- but it's trim and filler stuff (well, also the building of the steps to the door, but that's Ed's task). The door is in. Phew!

So, it's cool that festivities and celebrations are in full swing. We're putting up our feet here, at the farmette, feeling grateful that we can. And, too, that the door is in.