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We are a sorry lot – H and I. Can’t seem to get done what needs to be done anymore. We’ve been in a daze and we procrastinate – him more than me – which surprises me because I thought “Procrastination” was my middle name.

After arriving home a little before ten one night we realized H had not taken his medicine (you know how it is when you get old and your daily routine starts with meds to prolong your life) with his breakfast as he usually does.

Must be my fault because I’m the one who usually places it in front of him every morning even though – knock on wood – I so far have not gotten to the point of any pill-taking routine myself.

I can tell his mind is miles away when this was discovered because he took it in stride, chalking it up to a change in our morning routine and age of course. He could be mellowing out, but I don’t think that is the case.

We’ve done for a week things we don’t really want to do. It wasn’t part of the summer plan and not written into our equation. Of course our summer plan had already been drastically reduced by two weeks when the school start time had changed back in May.

Band camp was scheduled to start July 13th. It’s H’s last real “summer vacation” before he retires next year. After that it will be vacation every day. Procrastination was sort-of worked into the plan this summer until…

We knew we would have to face it sooner or later, and later as in next spring had been embedded into our minds for the last four years and not rush-rush to pack-up and change direction this late in the game.

So we pitched and we purged and combined almost twelve years of files and memories into three tidy plastic bins. Three “boxes” were piled in the back seat to sort through at a later date.

We dusted and arranged hard- worked-for superior plaques by date and event and shiny trophies were lined up on shelves and in cases like little soldiers marching on.

Music was filed in numbered order, their notes contained in the files only to be let loose with a melody when the season begins again.

The one-year-old cleaned uniforms were hung in the appropriate closets with hat boxes stacked neatly under each one. All are labeled and patiently waiting to be donned on proud, eager students for the first game of the season.

Color guard uniforms and accessories had been ordered earlier in the summer and will soon be ready to be shipped to their rightful owners.

Pictures were taken of plaques bearing Andrews name. Some good memories there and part of the school’s history. Who knows when we would lay our eyes on those again? There were quite a few with his name scattered amongst the others who  also excelled in the past eleven-plus years and only because he truly earned them while under the direction of his dad as the band director.

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It will be a new school and new routines for only one year, but what else can you do? You put on your blinders and push forward through the bumps and ruts in the road called life and do what is expected of you, hoping for the best. H is good at this. Me? Not so much.

Not having a say in the scheme of things, H moves through the change one day at a time putting it all in order and taking care of business. He’s been given a job and he will do it to the best of his ability and then some.

Hopefully, his legacy will live on and his students and band parents will continue to make him proud, even as he moves on to the next chapter in his life.

We wish them the best.




You’ve read all the books, seen all the talk shows, or read the advice. DO. NOT. BELIEVE. A. WORD. OF. IT! That’s right. Don’t let anyone tell you the secret to a lasting relationship is to find something – anything – to do together. Sometimes togetherness is not all it’s cracked up to be. Especially when doing DIY home improvements. Here’s one from two summers ago.

My son-in-law hung seven inside doors for me…uh…almost three years ago and I have yet to paint them. (hangs head in shame) :( They are coming for a visit in three weeks so we’ve been doing inside doors. Sanding, painting and re-hanging. It’s a project that should have not taken as long as it did. If I had not finally taken that first door down myself and carried it past H while he comfortably sat watching a ballgame on TV, he would still be sitting there and (after all, it is his summer vacation) the doors would still be unpainted. He’s pretty good at hauling heavy items in and out of the front door and flipping doors over so I can sand and paint the other side.

At the last-minute we decided to also paint the heating unit door and facings. That was a total of eight doors. It took too many hours of my day and of course we also made a few trips to Lowes in the course of this project.

Since I had previously done the others, only the bathroom doors and the heating unit door had to have the facings sanded and painted. What were they thinking when painting years ago? I have these issues with what was done.

  1. Do not paint over hardware.
  2. Do not paint your walls and door facings the same color.
  3. Do not use flat paint – ANYWHERE! Pink is not a pretty color for anywhere in my house – especially Pepto-Bismol-color-pink x flat.
  4. Didn’t they have sanders way-back-when?

I promise you I am not kidding. This was the major color scheme in this house when we moved in three years ago.


After a couple of hours of scraping and sanding three layers of paint I was finally ready to start the process of painting. You are asking where H is all this time? I think there was a ballgame on.

Facings are dry and it’s time to start re-hanging those eight doors. How many people does it take to hang a door anyway? Apparently more than we had at the time. Have you ever had to hold a door mid-air and line it up with the hinge? Not an easy task. And remember this – doors do not go back on their hinges as easily as they come off. I skipped my planks today Roni because I felt I had gotten my workout in by holding those doors!

H tends to do things the hard way in my opinion. I learned early on to keep my mouth shut and let him do it his way though. Not worth the trouble to voice my opinion. It’s not my fault when it takes him twice the time if I just stay out of it.

I fussed and fumed a lot because of the way things are put together in this house. To give his parents some credit, I know a lot of the malfunctions of this house is the way it was built back in 1956. They bought this house for $12,500. We have the original papers. But…everything in this house is bass-ackwards!

Our next big door project will be the replacement of the front and back doors. The front door opens into the wall instead of into the room. H said it was so there was access to the light-switch. 1) We don’t need access to that light-switch when we come in because it turns on outside lights. 2) The house was built from scratch. Put the #@%! light switch where it will be accessible when the door is hung the right way!

That front door was a contractor problem. Those great barn-door hinges on the laundry and workroom doors in the breeze-way which were painted over in three different colors of paint – that was his dads fiasco!

Finally two days and numerous arguments later, seven doors, one heating unit door, two door facings, and one window sill are finished, and that Pepto-Bismol-color x flat is nowhere to be seen anymore!

Next week I am painting my lawn furniture. Probably when H isn’t around so I can do it my way!






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