(I am sharing my raccoon video again in case some of you missed it. I don't think it was working properly for a big chunk of the day Friday, and it is hilarious. Only 6 seconds. I will wait while you watch it and get caught up, and I will cross my fingers that it works).
Since this weekend's weather promised to be dry and in the 70s, Coach decided this was a good time to strip and stain the deck. Last time the deck needed help we paid a company to do it, but since Coach can't see patients on the weekends and we don't have any sporting events to race off to with the kids AND we have extra hands available that aren't able to work much - it made sense.
Well, the weather cooperated, at least.
Lad was hired to go to our friend's lake house to chop firewood and do some landscaping and other manual labor, so one set of hands raced off to Michigan.
Tank was invited to his friend's lake house, another set of hands disappeared while sort of flipping us the bird in the process . . .
Friday night, I texted Tank: Hey, please check in now and then. Like let us know you got there OK, etc.
No response. Saturday morning I tried again. An hour later he finally responded with a snarky: Uh OK. We got here safe and sound. I'm sleeping on a couch right now. I plan to have a donut in a few mins. Its 87 degrees out right now. Is that enough detail for you?
Coach texted Tank: If you are gonna be an ass and/or not respond, we for sure wont let you go next time.
Obviously we didn't text when I was a pain-in-the-ass teenager back when 'I'll Be There for You' by Bon Jovi was all the rage, floral shorts known as Jams were a must have wardrobe item, and spiral perms were big and teased, but dear sweet Jesus if I had been snippy with my folks after they let me go to a friend's lake house I would've been afraid to come home.
Our built-in manpower took another hit when the caddy master texted Ed. Shotgun tournament on Saturday. He would try to get out whoever Ed brought. Mini, Reg, and Ed caddied and made a bundle of dough, and Coach worked on the deck solo (implied knowledge: Curly and I would be worthless as strippers, I mean, the deck stripping, stain-applying type).
To prepare for the deck makeover, we had to drain my blow up BFF of all the filthy, coon-cootie water. In my spa-setup excitement, I managed to position the drain near the house instead of the preferred opposite direction- AWAY from the house.
Newsflash: Coach has an insane obsession with all thoughts surrounding our foundation line, storms, rain water, sump pumps, back up sump pumps, impending storms, record breaking rainfall, seepage, and the like.
I still shudder to think of the face-time call we made to him last year from Vancouver when Curly was hoping for a 'GOOD LUCK, YOU'LL DO GREAT' wish from Daddy the night before she competed, but instead a frantic Reg answered and from over his shoulder we could see a hairy, shirtless, drenched Coach shouting, pointing, and acting like he was evacuating the Titanic - but I recognized the scenery as our basement.
One window-well consistently fills like a fishbowl in flash flood rains and then overflows over the top of the window.
But hey, that's only been happening for 4 years or more so it makes perfect sense that he has not settled on a PROFESSIONAL who can fix it, because according to Coach no such professional exists. So he twitters around researching various approaches to fix the problem.
Wow, that was quite the digression, but as you can tell I am not bothered by this frustrating phenom I like to call the 'I-think-I-can' approach. It's in his genes.
Another day I will detail I will not bore you with the many projects that he and his dad have tackled and utilized UNIQUE solutions that have sometimes led to other projects. ***HEAVY, TIRED SIGH***
Any-who, after dinner Friday night we went outside to empty the pool. Mama Coon had left the nest and was trolling around for food. She heard us dragging the patio furniture around and it freaked her out and she came running back to check on her babies under the deck. Well, I captured her on video here, but I had my phone magnified quite a bit so as I watched her dash back towards the deck, it suddenly appeared like she was actually hopping up on the deck thru the slats in order to bite me before gobbling me up -and if that isn't enough to make me almost shit myself, then I don't know what is:
While she waited for us to be done on the deck, she sat with her face sticking out from under the deck like a dog in a doghouse. I have no photo because I was heaving my pool up to my shoulders to get it to drain. Coach stepped on the other side of the pool so the water would drain AWAY from the house.
NOTE: the malfunctioning window-well is on the side of the house, not the rear. . . but still. One can never be too careful.
Mini came out to help. I continued to push up the side of the pool and everyone else was on the other side directing the water. If it sounds like I was doing the most labor-intensive part of the work, then I am explaining it perfectly.
All of a sudden, Mini's face became very animated. "Oh my GOSH! LOOK AT THAT!"
From where I was standing, Mini was looking into the bottom of the pool - now held up to her eye-level. She kept pointed out things to people as if the bottom of the pool was a television screen and they were watching a show.
After listening to their whoops and hollers, I was like "WHAT? WHAT IS IT?"
When all the water and accumulated dirt was gone, a weird thing happened. They could see a gazillion tiny little raccoon footprints all over the pool floor.
|It might be kind of hard to see. It was crazy that we could not see the footprints while the pool was flat and filled with water.|
Um, yeah. She was IN the pool, not just politely leaning over the side to take a sip. Damn it.
Coach keeps saying things in his best Mama Raccoon voice: "Thanks for getting us a pool." "Funny, you thought this pool was for you." "Please ask us the next time you decide to sit in our water source."
I am surrounded by funny people and furry mammals all of a sudden.
On Sunday Ed caddied again but he and Curly pitched it a bit on the deck when he got home. I kept busy trying to get my stacks and stacks of photos sorted out so they can be put into albums. During the 35 minutes I reclined on my lounge chair in the grass (sadly the deck was unavailable) I did ask Coach if he thought there was something I could do to help. I thanked my lucky stars when he said no.
Do you have a spouse who prefers to do projects vs hire someone else?