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It was a fine weekend. By the numbers: we spent almost all Sunday relaxing and enjoying summer. We took Del to the creek, sat in the yard and drank yard beers, and ate some really excellent food (recipe tomorrow). Saturday Patrick and I made a little more progress on this sexy beast...
which is just one skinny sixth away from becoming our new patio. Okay, each "sixth" in this case is a giant slab of slate, which Patrick has been maneuvering into place using a complex system of levers, fulcrums, winches, chains, and skids. Bless him, for he is so handy. I grow things, but he can slide an 800-pound slab of rock off a trailer like a damn greased otter, like it was meant to be in place under our hickory trees.
These slabs are, incidentally, pieces of the old village sidewalks that were dragged up into the weeds decades ago when everything was replaced with concrete. We had six of these slabs on our property, and had always thought they'd make a fine patio. We have exactly five days until our party, and one more slab (and a lot of leveling and back-filling and tidying up) to go. Whew.
Del watched our progress, and ate sticks. This dog undertakes with great relish the responsibility of breaking all large and medium-sized sticks into small fragments. He finds the occupation greatly satisfying.
Pete, who loves chasing a stick dragged through the grass, is less than pleased, but he'll have to be satisfied with getting some airtime on the blog, instead.
All around, things are blooming. I love this week. Maybe my favorite week of the year. Our anniversary, Patrick's birthday, and all the irises, Centaurea, poppies, Dame's rocket, and spirea burst into bloom. Such a celebration.
This was a great weekend for other reasons, as well. Patrick's band Tumbleweed Highway competed in a Battle of the Bands to secure a slot at a country music festival Friday night, and they WON. After watching the competition-- two cover bands full of flash and swagger among them-- we were all SO surprised when the judges chose the very hairy and talented trio of guys we love. The ones who sing original songs about neon lights, bull thistle, and small town life. You can watch a video of their performance, and the announcement that they won, here.
Sitting in that theater full of people, alongside my fellow Band Wives and the rest of the fine TW HWY support network who'd come out to cheer along, we were on the absolute edge of our seats. I love them, not just because they're my husband and his friends, but because those songs about bull thistle hit a nerve. They tear me up. Watching them live through the gains and losses that go with band life the past two years, I was so ready to see them get some notice. Notice from more than just the most sober Bud light-swigger at the bar, notice from more than just me and the other band wives. Notice from somebody, well, important. And they did. The festival is in two weeks. What a thrill.
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