I’m back from horn camp. Sorry about the drought for a while. The end of a school year is always very busy, and this May was especially busy because of my daughter’s high school graduation (you remember my daughter Lili? The author (when she was 6) of the greatest quote ever about the horn?). When I graduated high school several geological eras ago, it was (or so my memory tells me) relatively uncomplicated. Rent the robe. Senior picture (back then they gave you that freshly embalmed look, not the outdoor magazine cover look they do now, which are also about a hundred times more expensive than our pictures. Considering the pictures, it’s worth it). High school graduations (at least in Iowa – do they do this in your state?) are accompanied by parties, which take approximately as much planning as the Normandy Invasion, but are a lot more expensive. Our daughter said she didn’t want one, but we knew if we didn’t spring for one, she would never forgive us, with no statute of limitations on the guilt trip. Better to plan the invasion.
This kind of planning, fortunately, is my wife’s specialty. If it were left up to me, we might have big jars of peanut butter, several liters of soda, crackers, and, um, streamers? It wasn’t left up to me, but I do get to lift things, shop for stuff, clean, mow, and carry. For my wife, who can put a whole opera together from alpha to omega without raising a sweat, this was child’s play, even though the child in question was resistant to the planning (child’s idea of food: 4 kinds of candy. Wife’s idea (abbreviated): smoked salmon, salads, giant inscribed cakes (one each lemon and chocolate), and much more. My idea (no one asked): hot dogs and hamburgers. Chips. Lots of chips.). I contributed a 247 photo retrospective slide show of child on the downstairs TV. The aunts made two big collages of child pictures. Very slick.
The evening of the party (and days before and after), it rained. And rained. And rained. You will not be surprised to know that wife anticipated the possibility of this and ordered a two-elephant sized tent. With sides. The morning of, I went and bought enough tarp to cover Rhode Island – for the floor. We set up tables and chairs and lights and lanterns and the collages and set out the food and drink and had a merry time for some hours – something like 200 guests over the whole time – while it raged and stormed and deluged en dehors. Postscript: it eventually stopped raining, and they came an picked up the tent some days later, but it killed the grass underneath. We are now learning how to reseed grassless areas. Think twice if you get the urge to invite the circus to your back yard…
Back from Camp continues tomorrow.