Yesterday started out with a beautiful sun rising through Jack The Spruce, as least that’s how it looked from my favorite vantage point supine on the chaise lounge under The Old Man. I had been checking on the new pool water level as it had been filling throughout the night (cannot wait to see that water bill) and still had a little ways to go. I did actually work at installing the filter system after my other more nocturnal chores so all I needed to do now was sit back and watch the birds. So I did. With a delicious coffee (CAWFEE) in my hand.
Lisa had spent her free time – and that includes those rare moments when she wasn’t ordering me about – working on the back deck to make it look nice for the grans. She wanted it to look special for them. Especially Scarlett, who seemed extremely excited about having the BBQ with her Nona. Lisa did a great job.
It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. Until the thunderstorms rolled in with a heavy deluge and and plenty of don’t go in the water electricity in the air.
I took a very philosophical approach to the storm, thinking that every drop of rain falling into the pool was one less drop I was paying for. I tried to console my better half with the old bromide that “tomorrow is another day.” That of course brought the thunderstorm into our house where there was no where for me to find cover. So, I made myself useful filling up floaty donuts to show that I had faith that it was all going to work out.
Really hoping I would hyperventilate and pass out like the dogs on the couch.
But while I was pushing all of that deep meditative breath into the rubber donuts, I used that magic and called in a favor from Mother Nature before one of Lisa’s lightening bolts found their mark and fried me.
Gaia came through and the storm passed just as I stood out on the front of Casa Claire, like Prospero, waving goodbye to the ominous storm clouds and welcoming the sun and blue sky. (I was actually out there taunting the Heavens to take me out before Lisa did.) Kinda looked like this.
Well, it must have worked, because the Sun did Cometh and the back deck did Dryeth.
Claire and Honey then arrived to greet the grans and their mother, Georgie.
Their father was hiking with some friends and would arrive later. He did.
And the girls, who excitedly spotted the pool (it was a surprise) from their arriving white ship, hopped the side gate in their 4th of July finery, that Scarlett and Lisa had picked out, and, like the Visigoths, whose blood courses through their very tall, strong and blond mother, stormed the ramparts while Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song played in my head: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRjH_gJbUqQ.
Scarlett, as all good Vikings do when they arrive on Irish soil, vocally claimed the pool and all of the land beneath it as her own.
As all good Celts do when the Viking hoards arrive to pillage, they make a flourishing note about it somewhere for posterity. And so I have.
Luckily Georgie called to her brood in her delightful Aussie accent to come to the back deck for the obligatory photo op – these are all models in training –
But then dresses were quickly exchanged for bathing suits that Georgie had surreptitiously brought along.
And the girls then spent most of the remainder of the day lolling in the sunshine, floating in the pool.
Indeed, they only left the pool to counter the icy waters with a run down to Skyclad, my ever accommodating Hot Tub out back, to raise their body temperatures back to human levels and stop en route between the two conflicting water sources for the occasional snack – and an abbreviated kids dinner – on the back deck.
By the end of the afternoon, Claire and Honey came by to chase the rug rats from the pool
so that I could place the cover over the pool and the urchins could join the adults for some fireworks observations on the back deck.
Unfortunately, last night’s fireworks were far closer and more percussive than the night before, so while Claire and Honey could drown the noise out by blasting Classical Music in their barn, the Beagle Brothers were having panic attacks on the back deck, racing from one table to the next for cover, looking for a comforting lap to leap on, so I finally had to remove them to the third floor sanctuary, where I tried to calm them, between distant explosions, leaving Lisa to close out the evening with the grans and send them packing hours later. But not before she officially turned over title to the pool to the three granddaughters, and provided an open invitation for their return to use it at their will.
Which news compelled me back onto the front property in the middle of the night, to rail against the heavens. Something like this:
But the sun has returned to Casa Claire this morning, and that means I have my weekend Chores to attend to.
Hopefully, you fine, five readers had your own wonderful adventures to see in the start of our wonderful Country’s now 250th year.
We are truly blessed.
So, take advantage of the remainder of this three day weekend and BBQ whatever is leftover from yesterday. I have my wonderful veggie pasta and ice cream to finish off. Thank you Lisa.
Maybe, if there is that quiet moment, and you find yourselves with a bit of down time, pick up a book. Can I recommend The Claire Saga as the perfect summer literary escape for one and all.
But, no matter what we get up to, let’s make today a great one.
