Well, school is out for the Summer, but today is Jack's first day of YMCA camp, so the transition was quick. I have heard good things about the camp, and Jack loves to be around other kids, so even if he spent the day playing in a junkyard, he'd probably be happy as long as they served snacks. I guess kids these days don't play in junkyards much anymore, but I certainly did from time to time. Perhaps my favorite one was the local Air Force Base dump. I don't remember much about what I may have scavenged there, but I do remember the hulks of some burned aircraft. I did, of course, essentially grow up in a junkyard. Our "lawn" was covered with 6 boats of varying sizes, including a 35' cabin-cruiser; several junky cars and a pick-up, airplane wing tanks, an prefab metal building in pieces, a pile of 11 tons of stainless steel bolts and endless junk from auctions and god knows where else. And the inside--all four floors--was crammed with junk, too. How did I get off on this rant?
Jack and I are doing fine for the most part. We attended a bowling birthday party over the weekend, saw a movie, had a nice Father's Day lunch with the Grammas and Steph, and played or did things. Jack's anxiety about my disappearing continues, however. He wants to know where I am at all times. I went and brushed my teeth or took a shower in the master bath and did not hear him calling for me, and he was upset when I emerged. Not in a big way, but I could tell that if it had gone on much longer he would have been. Time to call the counselor back, I guess.
I attended Jack's end-of-the-year party at school on Friday. Took home another boatload of stuff from the school year. Said goodbye to the other parents. Got tearful when I walked through the empty classroom knowing who, besides the children and teacher, was NOT there for the occasion. Oh...life.
Hate to leave you on a down note, but I don't know what else to say right now.
S
I am booked for the work week, but nothing too awful awaits. I had an awful time last week with some "Inreda" drawers from Ikea. I couldn't figure out how they assembled and mounted. I was framing an angry email to IKEA many times over and it was blue.
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Where in the hell did you grow up with all that junk in the yard...Boise, Idaho?
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry she wasn't there at the end of the school year and I'm sorry she isn't at the end of my phone line. She is so missed.
I think you grew up in Sandpoint Idaho!! That is what I loved about Idaho, playing appliance bingo as we drove by.... HA, so familiar!!
ReplyDeleteIkea drawers go to junkyard.
ReplyDeleteI had a junk field in Long Beach my friend Kathy Crawley and I would spend hours combing. LOVE JUNK. There are not enough accessible junk yards around here in cleansville.
miss miss miss. not a day goes.. barely an hour.
Give that little Jack bob a squeeze from me. You too, Stan. We're thinking about you. As usual, terrible about picking up the phone. Joe's here. Me too.