The Anecdotal Life Part.96

Bizzzzzy week. Now I am creeping along on a Sunday afternoon, picking up the pieces. My cats are looking at me suspiciously since I haven't been sticking around too much. I scrubbed the boat for several days straight til I could no longer move my arms and my back was on the edge of revolt. However, I think I did a better job this year than last. Trying to find the perfect dirt removing wax and shine product that left the least amount of powdery film and the most shine was the toughest problem. The big kids in the boatyard , of course, use expensive power equipment and heavy duty waxing compounds that would take me...oh, eight days or so to get off. The key to the real problem besides the compounds are the words "heavy duty". The hand held polishers are too much for my hand to hold up for ANY length of time. I realized I could only handle extremely light weight products that stretched upwards at least 15 feet if I were going to stay out of the chiropractor's office. I probably belong there now. No, I couldn't use a ladder since the boat sloped upwards and back way over my head, requiring getting up and down "sixty-leven"times and that's how I wrecked my big toe two years ago. Nor do I trust my balance especially when tired. Therefore, I finally invented the "Crabtree secret formula," with a very long , very light, rotating mop and half a dozen different sprays and wipes. I am hoping the current rains helped get the light film off that I still need to attack. I'll know tomorrow. It isn't perfect; there are areas that need a stronger hand then mine to rid the boat of a slightly uneven look. But!! the imperfections "can't be seen from a galloping horse" and it is the best job I have ever done. So there.

So when collapse was near, I decided coming events were just the ticket for relaxing and hopefully having a rollicking good time-- if I could still make it to my feet to get there through long distances and torrents of hard driving rains. I went from Annapolis to Easton to the art group, began drawing in a watercolor and then drove North to a friend's house for her only daughter's wedding shower. The host family was New York Irish and Pennsylvania German. The Irish took over , which was no surprise and I found myself laughing harder than I have laughed in a long , long time. Raising hell is so easy in that crowd, mainly because whatever I would think of to do would go unnoticed with that bunch. Just try getting a word in edgewise. It was like being back on the porch in Michigan with my five sisters again. In fact, I sat down with a group of women at the kitchen table and as it turned out, all of us had had four or more sisters to deal with, stories about being the oldest, in the middle and the youngest spilled out of the group. I fell into two categories. I was the oldest to my"baby sister" and the youngest to my three older sisters. I really didn't quite fall in the middle since we were clearly divided into two groups age wise.
I remember being told stories and having poems recited to me by the older crowd and on the other hand I remember when my little sister was born. It was dark , middle of the night , my dad woke us up and we were standing in the kitchen surrounding him when he announced that we had a new sister. I looked up at him, pulled on his sleeve and quickly put in my five-year-old two cents. " Can I have this one?" He smiled and said "yes." How easy can it get? My older sisters did the diaper changes and I dragged her around the neighborhood seeing to it she made it through unscathed. I still try to boss her around, but it doesn't always work.