The One About The Deck Stairs Betraying Us [No One Was Hurt]

CLOSED FOR REPAIRS… hopefully sometime in the next year, but who knows?

• • •

Our deck is 21 years old and we need to replace it.  To wit the top section of the wooden stairs have fallen apart.

Dramatically, in fact.

You see, the top section of the wooden stairs gave out as Zen-Den started to walk down the stairs to join me on the terrace below.

I saw it happen.

Fortunately Z-D is fast on his feet which is kind of amazing for a chubby older fellow, but there you have it.  He didn’t get hurt.  He used to be athletically-inclined, played team sports, so maybe those experiences helped him in the moment.

Still, unnerving.

  • Did I mention that the deck is 8-9 feet above the ground below?
  • That Mr. Man jumped about 6 feet down to the ground as the stairs gave way underneath him?
  • And that the look of amazement on his face was one for the ages?

Like I said no one was hurt, but now the long tedious process of finding someone reliable to replace the steps, and the deck, has begun.  Spring 2021 seems to be the earliest anyone can get to us.

Of course it is.

Nothing more to say here except stay safe, kids.  When things fall apart may you land securely on your own two feet.

• • •

Questions of the Day: Does anyone have any experience with OR advice about having a deck replaced?  Did you go with wood OR composite?  Did you go with a dark stain/color OR a lighter one?  Did you pick metal posts OR wood or composite?  How did you decide who would build the deck?   

Daisies: Examples Of Tenacity OR Flowers With Loose Morals?

Daisies are sluts.

Zen-Den said this.  We were outside in our yard, working on the planting beds, trying to make our shrubs and flowers look presentable.  In the process of our gardening we noticed that the daisies were thriving.

Earlier this summer we transplanted them from the front of the house to the back of the house by the deck steps.  In the front yard the daisies were being overshadowed by tall birch trees, not getting enough sunshine to bloom.

In truth we were ready to chuck them into the wooded ravine behind the house but we had a change of heart so we gave them one. last. chance. by the deck stairs.

The daisies have graciously accepted their reprieve, growing by the deck stairs in the backyard where they’re getting 6+ hours of sunshine a day, looking healthy.

Enjoying their place in the sun, so to speak.

~ ~ ~ ~

I’m happy that we gave these daisies a new home in the garden because I find them charming, an inspiring example of the old axiom: “bloom where you’re planted.”  

Exhibiting style and tenacity, you know?

However to Mr. Man with his judge-y attitude, they’re hussies, flowers of ill repute giving off a morally dubious come-hither vibe.  Flowers who’ll do whatever it takes to stay in the garden.

Uh huh.

Clearly we differ on this point about the true character of daisies, thus demonstrating a basic principle of human nature: no matter what happens, if two people see it there will be two different interpretations of the same one event.

Is this not so?

Now I ask you, do these daisies look like sluts? Hmmm? Give me a break.

Defying Lethargy: A Walk In A Township Park On A Summer Afternoon

The Beginning

What cabin fever + depression are to winter, house arrest + lethargy are to summer.

Too hot to move or think straight

However, intrepid middle-aged suburbanites that we are, on Sunday afternoon we managed to get up on our hind legs, voluntarily leaving our air-conditioned home to go for a walk in a popular township park.

A glorious sunny day

It was the sort of day that usually brings out everybody and their dog and their grandma, but instead of a hundred people at the park there were maybe 10. Too sweltering outside I suspect. Still the lack of people was a bit… disconcerting… odd… unexpected.

Not at all normal

Nonetheless we slowly meandered around the paved paths, free from human distraction, not needing to wear our masks obviously. And for posterity I snapped a few photos of the stunningly blue sky and the amazingly green grass.

Of a lovely park, with or without the people

The End

A Small Adventure In An Old Cemetery, Because My Curiosity Must Be Satisfied

Many people have Bucket Lists of things they want to see/do before they die. I’m not one of those people.

Instead I have what I call a Measuring Cup List of things I’d like to see/do if I get around to it and can do so without too much inconvenience.

The following is an example of a Measuring Cup List item. 

~ ~ ~ ~

ON A WHIM AS WE were driving by Union Cemetery in Symmes Township, Hamilton County, Ohio, we went into it to see what we might see.

I knew of this cemetery because many years ago there was an article about it in our local newspaper.  In the article the reporter interviewed a township trustee about this historic cemetery, asking specifically about the size of the chapel that you can see from the road.

The trustee said something to the effect of: the chapel is big enough to hold a dozen Brownies or seven Girl Scouts. 

Naturally with a memorable description like that I knew I needed to see this building in person.  Sometime.  And now that I have, he did not lie.

~ ~ ~ ~

WHAT I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT this cemetery is that there are Revolutionary War Veterans buried there.  It was only after we walked around the exterior of the chapel that I/we began to wander through the cemetery.

Close to the chapel I saw the following tombstone and was immediately drawn to it.  It’s in good shape, which suggests family or some organization is tending to it.  Also as you can see, John Ross died 200 years ago in 1820.

That’s trippy if’n you ask me.  He died centuries ago, yet there I stood looking at the grave of someone who helped shape the world in such as way as to allow me to live in a democracy, instead of a monarchy.

~ ~ ~ ~

AS WE CONTINUED TO MOSEY around the cemetery we realized we had parked in the oldest section so we walked over to a newer section, that is to say an area with burials dating around 100 years ago.

Here we found a mausoleum with a healthy peony bush growing beside it.  On the mausoleum, a rather basic one, were the following two plaques with thoughts that are relevant today.

Mother’s plaque says: “And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.”  [This a quote from Luke 6:31 in the Bible.]

Father’s plaque says: “Love worketh no ill to his neighbor;  therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.” [This is a quote, complete with a semicolon, from Romans 13:10 in the Bible.]

~ ~ ~ ~

And with that we left the cemetery to get on with our day.  I felt inspired and pleased with myself for taking the time to notice what’s been in front of me for years.

You may consider this item crossed off my Measuring Cup List.

In Which A 3:00 A.M. Conversation About An Alleged Nightmare Turns Into A Nightmare

It is 3:00 a.m. We are in bed asleep. At least one of us is…

HIM: Are you awake?

ME: {sleeping}

HIM: I think you’re awake.

ME: {ignoring him}

HIM: You were counting in your sleep.

ME: {rolling over in order to ignore him better}

HIM: Why were you counting in your sleep?

ME: Not counting, sleeping.

HIM: Ah-ha, so you are awake.

ME: {sigh}

HIM: So what were you counting? You woke me up because you were counting in your sleep. Out loud.

ME: Don’t know. Sleeping.

HIM: Ah-ha, so you admit to the fact that you were counting in your sleep.

ME: Don’t know. Maybe? Sleeping.

HIM: What were you counting in your sleep? Hmmm?

ME: SHEEP. I was counting sheep.

HIM: Really? I didn’t know people did that except in stories and commercials.

ME: Uh huh. SLEEPING.

HIM: What kind of sheep?

ME: Fluffy. White. Just basic sheep.

HIM: What were they doing? How were you counting them?

ME: THEY WERE JUMPING OVER A FENCE, OK? AND I COUNTED THEM AS THEY DID THAT. 

HIM: Well, you don’t have to yell at me. I was only concerned that you were having a nightmare.

ME: I wasn’t before, but I sure am now.  

HIM: Well, I’m going back to sleep now that I know you’re ok. Good luck with your sheep. Sorry you can’t sleep.

ME: {wide awake and fretful at 3:05 a.m.}

HIM: *snoring*

~ ~ • ~ ~