Mark And Ian To The Rescue

Thursday I spent another day lounging around the pool.

See me lounge:

To insert the big silver patch in the foreground of the photo, I pried up part of the deck to insert it between the pool liner and the steel wall with the big rusted hole.

This endeavor proved I am not a carpenter.

However, I’m skillful in the use of duct tape, diamond wire, plastic garbage bags and an old dog blanket. By crafting these elements into a single effective patch, I repaired the pool wall. I estimate my patch will extend the pool’s life for another year or two.

Yes, I’m a slob.

Yes, I neglect basis home repairs.

Yes, I tend other people’s vineyards more than my own.

But I’m not entirely responsible for the condition of this swimming pool. I’ve seen a survey map of property showing this pool in place in 1967. So plain old age is a factor in its condition.

Having fixed the pool damage I mentioned yesterday, now all I have to do is rake out the leaves, clean away the algae, revamp the filtration system, replace hoses, fill the pool, add the chemicals — and wait for the year’s first hard freeze.

So, with the pool crisis averted, in a few more days I can return to writing that history of the fire department. One problem with being a writer is that life fills up with projects which are not writing. I’m sure that when his pool wall rusts through, Stephen King spends his time the same way I do.

Here is a photo of the writer at work, it’s me contemplating my next home repair project:

After I’ve finished cleaning the pool, that is.

(Wouldn't that picture make a great cover photo for the next book in my Dirty Old Man series?)

I plan to remove some spongy wood from the side of the house, reset a door, climb on the roof to re-attach some boards and stop up that place where the squirrels get in our attic and…

Slight problem:

As fixing the pool deck boards proves, I can plan one thing in my mind, but I forget that when it comes to actually doing the repair, I never learned how to drive a nail straight. This pool project also demonstrates that I’m getting old. I do not have strength or stamina to do the job any more. This simple project of pool repair exhausted me and left my hands and legs quivering and trembling and shaking at the end of the day.

That’s bad news.

I really wanted to do the other repairs my self. I’d scheduled time for them in the Spring… But, I forgot my physical limitations.

I’m not as strong as I think I am.

This realization makes me feel old and useless.

Used to be I was young and useless, but now I feel this double whammy.

However, God is faithful.

His strength is made perfect in weakness. Here when I reached the limit of my physical resources, a donor (who wishes to remain anonymous) appeared at the house this evening offering to pay for at least some of the needed repairs and bringing two young men to do the repairs for us.

Mark and Ian come highly recommended as skillful home repair carpenters. They are young, strong, handsome and pure-hearted. They spent the after noon scaling ladders and measuring and testing woodwork and poking here and there. In a few days, they’ll give us a cost estimate and we’ll go from there.

See, I planed to do the job my self.

But now that I’m not able to — as I’ve always said — it will take two good men to replace me.

Ginny attempted to go into work today but fell sick again and came home after only four hours in the office. She’d also overestimated her strength and returned to work before she was fully recovered from that cold. She’s still sick as a dog so I put her back to bed and called our daughter Jennifer to bring over some ice cream.

Jennifer and her friend Terry brought in Chinese carry-out for our supper. They joined us for devotions after supper. This was the first time Terry had been exposed to our normal after supper devotional practice, so we played a game of High-Low as part of our prayer time. In this game, each person around the table in turn tells the high point of their week and the low point of their week. The others rejoice or bemoan each person’s tale of highs and lows. It is a fun, non-threatening way to enjoy praying with people you don’t know very well.

Poor Ginny, she said the highpoint of her week is finally being able to drink warm chicken soup!

The four of us sat around afterwards talking about art and birds in general, hawks, owls and woodpeckers in particular. We spent hours in such warm, fun, general conversation

Finally, as the hours whiled away, I used my extraordinary tact as a gracious Christian host and said, “I love you people good, but go the hell home. I’m tired and want to go to bed”.

They caught my subtitle hint and left.

Another typically exciting day at the Cowarts.