24 Hours

OK, it's been a good day.. That’s not unusual but I still like to acknowledge it. Being acutely aware that my first 60+ years seem to have passed so quickly, I try to take time to appreciate the steps along the way, and try to make each one count. If I ask myself: “What is the best possible use of my time right now?” the answer may well be something like: eating ice cream (although that one doesn’t really work for me because I don’t like the stuff, I think it’s nasty.) or maybe just sitting on the deck and watching the birds around the lake. It doesn’t necessarily have to be tied to great productivity. Smelling the roses is important. That said, I do love to be able to put a line through the items that I constantly make note of on my ever changing “to do” list. I never scratch out the completed tasks to the point of illegibility, that wouldn’t have the same visual impact as it does to be able to actually see the completed item and give myself a mental pat on the back for having completed that particular task. Obviously I'm a man without a mission, trying to justify too much time to sit and think about how little time there is.

Around dawn, I put air in my bike tires and went for a ride after feeding the dogs and taking them out for a walk in the park that begins at the back gate. Sasha, our standard poodle, has a new toy that looks like a long, flexible cane with a cup to hold a tennis ball on one end. That thing is designed to help me throw her ball 3-4 times farther than I am able to throw it by myself. So Sasha now knows that she needs to run far and fast before looking over her shoulder for the ball. She is built for speed and that new ball launcher makes for some serious dog exercise. Now Kira, the Rottweiler mix, is a different story. She doesn’t run, so don’t push her to do so. Kira takes her time and just likes to poke around without any stress or silliness like chasing some stupid ball. We believe that Kira’s father was a full-blooded Rottweiler and her mother was a pot-bellied pig, but Kira is sensitive about the specifics of her lineage so we try not to discuss it in front of her.

After my ride, I cut out the dead stalks and branches from the landscaping, raked the back yard, and filled in the Armadillo holes in the front yard. The Armadillos like my yard more than any other yard on the street and our lawn looks like a shell pocked war landscape. At Home Depot the plant lady tells me that it is because of the grubs under the grass. Apparently the Armadillos can hear the little guys as they wiggle around several inches under the topsoil. Each hole they dig to go after the grubs is about 6 to 10 inches deep. Having had no success with my Have-A-Heart trap baited with Boars Head all beef hot dogs, and after letting the dogs chase the armadillo under the car several nights in a row, I knew that I had to spread grub poison on the lawn. No grubs, no armadillos. I do have a 22 caliber pistol and a good flashlight which provide a very effective alternative approach to Armadillo removal but there are some uncomfortable and messy issues with that solution. The neighbors aren’t delighted with 3am gunshots in our hood nor the bath-robed, wild-eyed, guy doing the shooting. So I spread the poison two nights ago. Yesterday when I filled in the new holes I noticed that there was a grub about the size of my thumb in the bottom of each hole. They seemed to be squirming in their death throes. I think the poison was starting to work and they must have dug themselves out of the dirt trying to escape it. All of this was very gratifying and gave me some reason to believe that my Armadillo invasion may soon come to an end. I’m told that Armadillos aren’t too bright and apparently their taste is suspect as well; those grubs are very nasty looking, certainly no match for Boars Head all beef hot dogs in any taste test by sensible people. Obviously Armadillos don’t qualify.

Later in the day I watched a new UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) show that I had recorded the night before. When Carla’s not around I play the sound portion of the show over my stereo and make the walls of the house vibrate with the roar of the crowd when someone gets knocked out. That was right around 4pm, so Carla had gone to work and that house was all mine. UFC goes very well with a nice, cold India Pale Ale, so the formula goes: UFC + IPA= GUY HEAVEN. But unlike the stereotypical males portrayed as shallow, housework impaired idiots on most mainstream TV, I got just as much enjoyment out of cleaning the refrigerator and cooking dinner afterward.

The second refrigerator sits in our laundry room/workshop area and was stinky from some soup that thawed out too quickly in a plastic baggie and dripped chicken broth down the shelves and into both vegetable crispers. I removed and washed all the shelves and wiped everything down with a warm solution of water and baking soda. When everything was dried and put back into place, I went back to the refrigerator throughout the course of the night just to open it and marvel at it’s sparkle and shine. Mainly though, the refrigerator cleaning was just a time killer while the Lamb Shanks baked. Before I tackled the cleaning, I braised Lamb Shanks in Olive Oil after rolling them in freshly chopped Rosemary and fresh ground black pepper. I removed them to a plate and braised carrots, onions, and diced garlic in the same pan and used red wine to deglaze it. Then the Lamb goes back into the pan along with some more wine and some beef broth. I put the lid onto the Dutch oven and put it into a pre-heated oven at 350 degrees for 3 hours. That Dutch oven is Mandy’s cast iron pan that she used in Charlottesville for all those years that she worked for Grandma and Grandpa. I use it all the time.

The 3 hour cook time gave me plenty of opportunity to clean the refrigerator, hang some tools in my workshop, clean an old brass soap dish that Carla brought home from the Goodwill store, text Hannah and Ruth several times, take the dogs out for their late exercise, and hang a new laundry line in the back yard. After cleaning up and crossing off some of the now completed chores from my “to do” list, I steamed some fresh Asparagus to accompany a plate of Lamb Shanks and a skinny loaf of French bread that I had picked up earlier at Publix. A glass of red wine made the dinner complete. Just excellent.

I slept from 9pm to 3am when Carla came home from work and climbed into bed with me. Her hair was fresh from the shower and she smelled great. We talked excitedly about our day, our hopes, plans, expectations, the kids…enjoying each others company and warmth in our wonderful bed…just as we have for over 33 years. It was a great 24 hours. And yes, I need a serious hobby or job or something...