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Although the crumbling tennis courts we found this morning were not exactly the amenities we expected based on the description of our vacation rental, it was nothing we couldn't handle with a tape measure, some duct tape, a chalk line, and the extra bottle of chalk. Within 20 minutes we had a pickleball court marked out and we spent a couple hours alternating between singles and doubles matches with some serving and volleying practice on the adjoining court. 

A quick stop at the drug store before dinner for a couple more rolls of duct tape was insurance against the torrential afternoon rain and any damage it probably did to our chalk lines. Once we get the courts marked off tomorrow morning? It will be all pickleball, all week. 

You're welcome, Coolfont.

What Are the Chances?

Nearly 40 years ago my brother and sister and I purchased a Danish modern rocking chair with a woven back and seat. Our father had just moved back to the States from Saudi Arabia to set up residence in Virginia Beach and continue his fight against Stage IV colon cancer, and we were in charge of furnishing the three bedroom ocean view apartment where we would be living. Our 20 something tastes took us to Conrans in Georgetown where we found a couch and an arm chair in their scratch and dent section, along with the rocker, some blond-wood end tables and matching coffee table on the showroom floor.

All of that furniture stayed with one or the other of us for many years after my dad died: the coffee table was painted periwinkle; the couch was reupholstered twice; and the chair moved to California and back with my sister. So when the rocking chair got torn to pieces by our cats, I couldn’t part with it, as unsightly as it was. 

Somewhere along the line, I took the chair apart and brought it to school, storing it in my closet. I’m sure my plan was to have it fixed and put it in my classroom, but it’s been in storage for at least 25 years. And I’m not sure what made me decide that this was the summer when I would finally have it restored, but on the last day of school I pulled the rocker from the closet and carried it out to the car. 

In the days following, I made several calls and sent even more emails and texts with pictures of the shredded roping, in an attempt to get an estimate for repair. All the replies were the same, though: nobody I contacted did weaving. During my research I came across some similar chairs that were selling for between six and twenty-two hundred dollars. I also found some DIY videos that made reweaving a chair seat look relatively easy.

I made up my mind and ordered the Danish cord I would need for the job from a specialty supply store. The job seemed both straightforward and complicated, and I thought that more eyes and hands would help, so I came up with the idea to bring the project along on our upcoming vacation. Then I would have not only me and Heidi to figure things out, but also Bill, Emily, Victor, and Treat. Surely with the six of us on the task we could resolve any unforeseen complications and make quick work of it, too. Plus it seemed like it might be fun to learn to weave and restore a piece of family history.

This afternoon I arrived at the cabin in WV where we will spend the next week eager to present my project proposal to the group. I was talking it up as we carried all of our luggage and supplies into the spacious house, pointing out how satisfying a way it might be to spend a rainy day. A little while later, when I was on the lower level where Heidi and I have our room, I walked over to explore the small sitting room that is down here. 

“No. Way!” I whispered to myself, for there was the very rocking chair that I sought to restore.

Garden to Table

We were fortunate enough to do the tasting menu at the Dabney restaurant in Blagden Alley last night. One of DC's handful of Michelin-star restaurants, the place is known for its wood-burning cooking hearth and its tasting menu featuring mid-Atlantic cuisine and ingredients. 

My mom gave us a generous gift certificate for the restaurant as a Christmas gift back in 2018. Fortunately for us, it said right on the page that it would never expire, and so on the heels of all the ups and downs of the last 4 and a half years, I finally made a reservation for last night.

It was a fun experience, and our menu is featured below.

In the spirit of the place, tonight I made a trio of squash featuring early ingredients from our garden-- garlic, shallots, basil, zucchini, and squash blossoms, along with farmer's market cherry tomatoes, spaghetti squash, eggs, and cheese. And while the stuffed squash blossoms, zucchini noodles with fresh tomato, basil, preserved lemon, and olive ragu, and warm spaghetti squash terrain might not be as expertly prepared as the fine food we had last night, the portions will definitely be larger. 

(But, hey! No shade, Dabney! Ours is only 3 courses.)

Lucy's Morning Out

Our cleaning lady came this morning just a little after eight, but no worries-- Heidi had already walked Lucy and worked out with her trainer, and I had meditated, made breakfast, and picked up. We even had errands planned to fill the time when she was here, and since it was so cool and rainy we loaded Lucy into the station wagon and brought her along. 

She was able to come into the first couple of places, Home Depot and Pet Smart, and while she was moderately excited about the first stop, she was super enthusiastic at the second. She stood on her back legs to see a cheeky little Conure who was pecking the glass at her, and she got into a stare-down with some of the adoptable cats. In fact, she might still be standing there now if we hadn't dragged her away. 

Lucy had to stay in the car for the next two stops, a thrift shop to drop off donations, and a diner for breakfast, but she didn't mind at all when Heidi left her with a few of the treats we had purchased at Pet Smart. 

Within a couple of hours, we three were back to our clean house, feeling accomplished, and a couple of us were ready for a nap.

Final Duty

As my last official act of the school year, this morning I ordered the t-shirt prizes for the 13 students who successfully completed the 100-Day Writing Challenge. 

I'd been putting the chore off a bit because it's a nuisance to add all the addresses and verify the purchase on my Amazon account in order to have the shirts sent to the kids at home, but on this rainy Wednesday, when our pickleball and lunch plans were upset by the weather, I finally sat down with the bright orange order forms I had the Centurions fill out last week. 

Any irritation I may have felt at the extra clicking and tedious typing was erased by the opportunity to consider each young writer one more time and to see which of the thousands of shirts on the Woot site they opted for. Their choices are always a bit surprising: whimsical and often revealing of a side of them that, even after an entire school year and a hundred days of writing, I didn't know. So it was with a little bit of sadness that I clicked submit on the last order and bid farewell to a really great group of kids.

Transitions Are Hard

You would think that after thirty years I would have this summer break thing managed, and yet I do not. 

As much as I crave a break from the gogo gogo, once it arrives I find myself at loose ends. Oh, I have accomplished many of the things I planned to do-- I've played pickleball, gone to a baseball game, worked in the garden, baked bread, cleaned out my closet, organized the deck, and tackled a bunch of DIY projects, and still I've found myself literally spinning in my chair and solving word puzzles.

But never fear, dear reader, I am confident I will master this life of leisure, so much so that you can look for a companion post come August, lamenting all that is trying about going back to school.

Neither Quick Nor Easy

Ignoring the way that DIY projects are never quite as quick and easy or inexpensive as you think, I ordered a couple replacement poles for the cat structure in our living room. Tibby, in particular, loves to scratch the sisal fiber, and after 4 years, it looks like hell. 

Rather than rewrap the posts, which definitely would have been cheap, I spent almost what the structure cost to get new ones. When they arrived, I realized that swapping them out wouldn't be as quick as I thought, because I had to disassemble the whole thing. 

The parts had been languishing for weeks when I decided on Saturday, that with school out, it was finally the day for the project. So I kicked Milo off the top platform and slid the enormous structure out of the corner. I had the top poles off and the middle platforms swiveled so I could reach the torn-up cylinders I was replacing when I saw that the connecting bolts were not the same size. The new ones were much narrower and would not fasten securely to the old posts. 

Disheartened, I reassembled the thing, keeping one top bolt out, and shoved it back into the corner. Then I headed off to a big box home improvement store with both bolts in my pocket. There I stood long in the hardware aisle, comparing bolts and nuts and considering how best to adapt the misfit pieces. The only valuable thing I left there with was information-- I used the measurement display to identify the sizes of my bolts: they were 8 and 10 mm. 

Not surprisingly, metric hardware is less common in US stores, which explained the dearth of options. At home, I searched the internet to see if there was some sort of adapter I could buy, and it was then I learned a new term, "step stud". Yes, friends, they actually make bolts that are one width on one side and another width on the other. I was able to order 4 from the world's largest online retailer, and I expect them to be delivered tomorrow. 

Will they do the job? Well that remains to be seen, but they did add another 12 bucks to the cost, and of course, the time spent will be more than double what I originally hoped. But that structure is going to stay out of the landfill for a long time.