Sunday, August 19, 2012

Post 2090 - A Long Day

I woke up at my mother's this morning.  I spent a good hour out in the garage, where I find comfort and a closeness to my father that is hard to describe unless you've lost your dad and end up doing something that he also enjoyed.

I noticed the vise grip on the work table.  I remembered using it as a child, so long ago.  I further noticed that it had been focused on a screw nail, probably for a long time.  I couldn't loosen its grip.  So, I used a very liberal coating of WD-40 and let it creep.  After 10 minutes, I tried again.  After a grunt or two, it came loose.  And the vise works great again, almost like it just came out of the box.

I further noticed that there was no professional level in the house or the garage.  I mentioned to my mother that we should get one.  The only one I had was a tiny one from a dollar store.  Mom mentioned that Dad had left a few things in his closet. I checked it out.  Sure enough, propped up against the wall, was a level.  It is pretty old.  Dad probably used it for many years.  And now, it is hanging up in the garage for when I next need it.  Thanks, Mom.  Thanks, Dad.

After lunch, I washed the dishes and returned to the computer I keep down there to do some transcribing of the Christina Fitzgerald interview.  I should be finished it by later on this week at this rate.  Darn me for taking so long to get to it.

I returned to the city mid-afternoon.  When I got here, I took a shower and headed out to the Clive Schaefer visitation at Snow's Funeral Home on Lacewood Drive.  Of course, I caught every red light there.  Every.  Single.  One.

I arrived around 7:20.  I remained there for about an hour.  I met several members of Clive's extended family.  I heard several stories about him.  And I met more than a few folks who knew Clive from his tennis playing days.  His lovely granddaughter, a recent fan of this blog named Keri, greeted me and we chatted for a few minutes.

The return to the car was eventful.  It was raining pretty hard, but the proprietors of the funeral home lent me an umbrella until I got to the car.  Then, I just dropped it off and returned home.

It is now past 10pm.  I really should turn in.  But Newbie is restless and so am I.  Hard to pinpoint just why.

Have a good night, my lovelies.

See you tomorrow.

Bevboy

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