While feeding the baby her porridge, on the morning after her sleepover, - a terrible smell filled the dining room.
"is it the baby?" asks Sarah..
"No, she's clean. What about the mother dog?" I ask..
On inspection, we discover that Pepi had a terrible mess going on in her undercarriage which needed our attention -and fast!
Cam fetched the wheelbarrow, Sarah donned gloves, I brought out the hot water. Pepi sat in the water while Sarah washed her as I held her. Baby wanted to see what was going on and we had to distract her when she got too close to Pepi's splashes.
The phone rang. Machinist came around the corner from the Machine shop. "It's your mom, Helen" (Helen!).."..the movers won't pack their stuff. They need everything to be in boxes and your mom wants to know if anyone in town has any boxes they don't want..."
Hayley arrived to pick up Baby. Sarah and I made a dash to the Grand's cottage. It didn't look as if there was a lot of moving house going on that day. It looked like, and was - a removalist's nightmare. Small tubs, without lids. Buckets oozing their wares. Large tubs with lids - heavy and cracking with the weight they were bearing. A few flimsy cardboard boxes with an occasional content marker. Sturdy boxes - half empty waiting 'last minute items'.
There's a fine line between aged parent independence and necessary action for the good of all. The Greater Good.
Emma confided in Grandpa to leave the key under a pot at their new home, while she took the Grands for lunch and coffee. Sarah and I moved swiftly. Very swiftly.
Kitchen unpacked
Pantry and fridge stocked
Beds made
Clothes away
Correct distribution of tubs and wares
Removal of empty vessels and other rubbish
TV set up
And then, an impulsive but necessary turn into McDonalds drive through (uugh) for a large coke and fries. Diet tomorrow.
On arriving home, and after his meal, the Machinist asks..."Babe, come with me..." (Babe!)..."I've got something to show you".
I follow him to the kitchen, where he collects the torch. I follow him outside towards the Fabrication shop. "Look there!"
He spotlights a BRAND NEW FENCE. But oh! This is not only a lovely, high (privacy) beautifully fitted and welded fence partnered with a well hung and hinged gate. It is a SNAKE PROOF FENCE.
Aaahhh... Romance.
Later that evening, the Machinist and I are lounging back in soft brown leather recliners, sipping cold drinks and basically - living it large. We are watching a Very Scary Movie about alien invasion (the "Greys", FYI). We retire to bed and just as we are falling asleep - a sudden distinct thumping noise. Then again. And again.
The Machinist gets out of bed to check what's amiss. He's gone for a while, as I lay there and wonder if he has been abducted. Then he comes back to bed, lifts the covers, slides in...
"What was the noise?" I ask
"Oh, it was Emma. She had a bat in her room and I helped her guide it out the back door..."
A bat. A BAT. A BAAAAAT!
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2 comments:
Wonderfully written! I could smell the dog, shared the despair of the poorly organized clutter and shared the relief at the end of the day. And of course, the realisation that no fence is bat-proof... Loved it!
I enjoyed your story this morning. Thanks for sharing it!
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