Staycation

It was such a great week that I can only frame it with the proper reference points to keep it all in order...as in what I ate all week.

It has become a ritual that after the kids are done with school I take a week off to stay at home and just hang out. Kind of like going to the beach, although we have no outdoor shower.

Last year during my week off we sketched a shack for the back yard and built it, roofed it, and painted it. It has served us well this year by being a place where we could store some stuff, do what kids do, and have the odd guest break his arm while shimmying the "balcony".

This year we had no such grand plans, as I scheduled my LEED exam for the end of the week, almost at the last possible moment before they those crafty folks at the US Green Building Council rolled out the next (more expensive, more difficult, and more jumpthroughhoopish) version yet.

Instead we decided to go to the pool as much as possible, or play with friends (kids, that is) as much as possible. I studied while they all frolicked about. It worked out well, since this was the type of test that required repetitive drilling of factoids that are easily referenced in books or on the interwebs.

Monday at the pool: the popcorn was salty and the fruit Mentos were very fruity. Shakes at Potbelly's before the movie were divine.

Tuesday & Wednesday were much of the same. Doin' a whole lot of nothing, though I had to work a coupla hours each day...the only low points of the entire week.

Thursday: The cultural event of the week featured a trip downtown to see the Marine Symphony Orchestra at the Monument. But first a phony baloney "Belgian" meal at Gordon Biersch which was punctuated by fire alarms set off by the hellions at the booth next to us. Dad got a serious talking to by the frustrated wife and ate his salad with his brim pulled way down low while she stalked off with one of the toddlers. Note to this restaurant: Steak frites are not supposed to come with a spicy sauce...

Friday: Our kids and their kids play Wii at their house while we go to a real Belgian joint. Karen had real steak frites, we all shared an order of real moulle-frites, and I had a green peppercorn sea bass dish garnished with a fried prawn that I am still thinking about--the fried prawn, especially. This crustacean treat was so lovingly crispy that it crumbled, nay, melted in my mouth. The company was fab as well, and it sure is nice to let the inmates run the asylum every once in awhile so that both sets of parents could enjoy a fine night out.

Saturday the rest of the family vacated out of town to join the in-laws and I joined the club century ride to Sugarloaf, only expecting to complete a forty percentury. But by the time we reached Sugarloaf Mountain I realized that I had hit that mileage mark and in a continuance of poor decision-making I rolled up and over the top of the hill, knowing I would pay dearly on my return trip home. Good thing there were provisions at the bottom of the climb--gels, bagels, bars, and tons of water allowed me to limp home for a cool 82 mile ride with some memorable moments. Awesome people on this ride, too.

The original plan was to go to a work related BBQ, then a graduation party for a neighbor's daughter, and then my annual get together with the high school in the Philippines crowd. No BBQ due to the extended ride, but the rest of the evening and push through into the wee hours could be described thusly:

Flank steak slices

Curried chicken slices

Shrimp in lime juice

Salmon with a ridiculous glaze

Crispy fresh veggies

Sumptuous fruits

Beer

And that was at 5:30 PM.

Then I got to the party. It was on like Donkey Kong:

BBQ prawns

Steamed seafood, corn and potatoes

Jello shots

Sea salt brownies

More beer

On Sunday we saw the O's-Nats game in B-more. Boogs BBQ featured a horseradish sandwich with roast beef, and I was, for about the 11th time in 4 days, in heaven.

Other highlights: my sister and her fam (with their new pooch) came down to visit, and I passed the exam, so all is well.

It was a grout Father's Day

Six months ago I tore apart my downstairs bathroom to create a more useable space with a shower that wouldn't leak, a sink that was bigger than a teacup, and a toilet that didn't require one's knees to be hovering around one's ears when administering the number two (or one and two, if you happen to be a female of the opposite persuasion).

The sink and johnny have been operational for a few months now, and I just got around to finishing the tile work this weekend in the shower. Repetitive manual labor puts my mind into rewind where I plumb the depths for memories of previous years based on the cues of current actions. This is an especially therapeutic activity, especially while I'm on a long ride by myself.

So as I was spending Father's Day morning grouting the tile (instead of riding) I began recalling the grout grafitti in the bathrooms at the UMD Arch School studios. Tiny pencil lettering in the architectural style, between tiles at about eye height if you're facing the wall, which you'd better be doing if you're at the urinals. Pretty benign stuff, like:

"Three strikes and your grout"

"The Grout Gatsby"

"When in doubt, leave it grout"

"Writing on grout is not alout"

"Little Mary was short and stout; she didn't grow up, she grout"

Seeing these on a daily basis for several semesters seals them into the memory vault, to be sure. Much better than the racist and misogynistic crap that I see in the Port-o-lets at construction sites, but even some of those authors are creative, though misguided.

Best construction site San-i-john grafitti I've seen in recent years:

"Sink too low. Soap too hard."

Released

Every spring the tyranny of kids' sports monopolizes my time in ways that always seem more severe than last year, or last season. Once the final game is over and we go our separate ways, I miss the structure that the seasons gave to the late spring, even after grousing about lost time and and and. This year it was soccer and baseball, overlapping. It doesn't help that I coach both teams, because my mantra is as long as my daughter wants to play, I will be there to coach, cuz that's how I've always envisioned this life.

Except that this year I came to the realization that I can't do overlapping seasons. Spring soccer doesn't cut it anymore, and next year it will be soccer in the fall, baseball in the spring.

So baseball finally ended tonight, at Blair HS's softball field, under the lights. Playing on a groomed diamond, permanent bases and pitching rubber, and smooth outfield grass, evenly cut. If one were to ask me in the middle of the third inning how things were going, I would have stated that the season was an unmitigated disaster, with only 1 win and a group of talentless misanthropes who didn't care about developing skills or being a team. Wow that would've been harsh, no?

But in the error-laden world of Major 60 baseball, in which 10 & 11 year olds play almost to the same rule standards as kids several years older, things do change. Ask me the same question one inning later, in the middle of a 6 run rally to cut the opposing team's lead to 4 runs, and I'd say that this team is on the rise and what a way to end the year, with kids that found ways to eke out that last effort to make the last game fun. Amazing kids who suddenly were interested in the game because they saw that their efforts were finally paying off, drawing walks when they needed to, stealing bases, and getting key hits. Manufacturing runs, closing the gap, and having a blast. If only they could be consistent, but that will come in time. Like the way my son's team plays, in which I was just a spectator, as they were coached by much more able people.

So now I can focus on other things, as I've always thought that my summer vacation starts when school and sports for the kids end. Maybe I'll ride more, finish business around the house, play the guitar more, relax more, write more. Summertime in the city.

Last Friday I was released from yet one other time monopolizer. The Stanley Cup was hoisted by the Pens, and now I'm not watching hockey 3 nights a week. That's a lot of found time too.