1. Huge day here at the little house on Little Cameron!
Ron and some of his guys arrived around 7:30 a.m. and further prepped the patio area for the cement that arrived in a cement mixer later in the morning. More of Ron's guys arrived and they moved wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of wet concrete to the back yard and shoveled one load after another into the area and worked for at least a couple of hours, or even more, getting it smoothed out and getting the drainage figured out.
2. While Ron and his crew worked on the patio, the Troxstar and Marla and their aged dog Willy headed out of Eugene early this morning, bound for Kellogg to spend the night with Gibbs, Luna, Copper, and me before continuing their cross-country trip to Massachusetts and eventually Maine.
I prepared for their arrival in all the usual ways: I laundered the sheets on their bed and made it; I vacuumed; I spiffed up the bathroom; I went to Yoke's and bought groceries and a six pack of backup beer in case we wanted more than the Troxstar himself was bringing.
I put together a tray of cheese and lunchmeat, cut up a loaf of sourdough bread, made pasta with Tomato Bruschetta Sauce, and set out pickles, almonds, celery, and carrots. I hoped the Troxes would find light, refrigerated food satisfying after driving all day.
They did.
3. I was very happy to see the Troxes pull into the driveway. I was slightly concerned about how Gibbs would respond to having people he doesn't know visiting, especially people with a dog.
Gibbs was a champ.
He didn't go bonkers. He didn't bark his head off. He immediately accepted Willy and didn't hassle him, didn't try to get him to play, and didn't bark at him. It was as if Gibbs was aware of Willy's age and infirmities and practiced what we humans would call respect for one's elder.
Gibbs loved the Troxstar and Marla. He leapt onto the couch to be with them, loved the affection they shared with him, and even lay on his perch at the window so that he could do what he does with Debbie and press himself against both the Troxstar's and Marla's neck and shoulders.
Before leaving Eugene, the Troxstar wondered if he could bring any beer from Eugene to Kellogg -- like, would I like him to bring a growler of Hammerhead. I said that Hammerhead completes me and that a growler would be awesome. I was fired up to be drinking Hammerhead in Kellogg again -- that was twice in one month thanks to Oregon friends -- and when we finished the growler, the Troxstar drank a Heidelberg and I twisted the cap off of the home-brew the Troxstar had made and brought.
He purchased a book with a recipe for Rogue's Dead Guy Ale and I was very impressed with how good his home-brew tasted. I didn't expect it to be quite as malty as it is and that was a welcome surprise.
Marla, the Troxstar, and I yakked about any number of things until around 9:00. Marla was ready at that point to call it a night and the Troxstar wanted to experience the Vizio room, so I cleaned out Luna and Copper's litter pan, moved their fish oily wet food to the bedroom, where the cats were hanging out, and brought in a second chair.
The Troxstar wondered if I'd ever watched the fast-paced, Cockney, bawdy, raunchy, booze-fueled Victorian copper mini-series The Year of the Rabbit.
I hadn't.
So we watched two episodes and, thanks in part to the beer, I was never completely sure what was going on, but I was intrigued by the pace, editing, earthiness, and innovation of the program and enjoyed watching it before we all called it a night and hit the hay.
It brought a splendid evening to a close.
Here's a limerick by Stu:
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