Wrecking the Curve

"How do you think you scored?" our host asked us as we exited the escape room and filed into the lobby. Bill, Emily, Heidi, Treat, and I had just celebrated Treat's birthday by outwitting the pharaoh and solving the puzzles to complete the tasks in the three chambers of his tomb. 

"Not very well," I laughed. We had escaped, but it hadn't been pretty.

"Really?" the guide said, looking a little hurt. "Well, come on over here and check out this screen."

An 88 flashed across the monitor mounted over the door.

"88's not bad!" he told us, "You beat the three other groups before you."

"Were they children?" Emily asked suspiciously. We had seen several birthday parties waiting before our reservation.

"No, no," he assured us. "They were adults. You did the toughest room. Most kids go for the dragon one." He gestured at the screen again. "Look at the bar graph on the bottom. Most groups score 60 or below."

We nodded as two girls of about 12 approached the door. "Can we go in?" they asked.

"I'll be right there," he told them.

"Just those two by themselves are going to do it?" I said. "That explains the average!"

Screw Ups

I must have dropped the screws a dozen times, but Heidi, bless her heart, picked them up every time and handed them back to me as I stood on the ladder. 

We were helping our friend who was injured in an accident by installing new shades on her windows, and I was resistant to drilling pilot holes since it meant switching back and forth between the bit and the driver. Eventually, though, I had to reassess my strategy, since I was working on a ladder and over my head, and it was impossible to hold the bracket, the screw, and the drill without having it rain screws all day. 

But then, once I had both brackets tightly fastened in place, I realized that by using the rear screw holes, I had blocked the lip of the bracket, so the blinds could not be snapped into place. So I had to remove all four of those damn screws and drill two more pilot holes before refastening the brackets and locking the blind in place. All of this as our friend and four dogs watched the show from the couch across the room. 

Fortunately, I was able to keep my cussing to a minimum and maintain my good humor. "That was the learning curve!" I laughed as I moved the ladder over to the next window. "This one will go much faster."

And it did.

Mainstream

We have a good friend who works for an intelligence agency, and we were all sitting around a couple of months ago when she blurted, "I need to tell ya'll about my latest purchase."

We nodded, ready to hear about some electronic gadget, home decoration, or fashion item. "I bought some 20-liter water jugs," she reported, "for my go bag. I also got some really great MREs," she added, referencing some freeze-dried entrees.

We continued nodding politely as she proceeded to outline her emergency plans. "I guess you can never be too prepared," I said.

And I didn't so much write it off as put it out of my mind until today, when I was looking at Wirecutter's list of the best Prime Day deals under 25 dollars, and noticed a link to another of their articles,  called, The Best Gear for Your Go-Bag. 

This is getting real.

Or is it?

Green Lining

It's always exciting to visit the garden after having been away for a while, and it has been a while. I haven't gone up there since before we went to Charlottesville on June 28, and so I was eager to see how things were growing.

When I finally made it this afternoon, I was a little disappointed. This has been a tough year: a cool and rainy spring was followed by a hot and droughty early summer. Torrential thunderstorms have been hit or miss, and while everything is growing, not much is setting fruit. My tomatoes, squash, beans, and peppers are weeks away from producing. A stroll by the other gardens in our community plot confirmed that everyone is in the same situation.

The only upside? The weeds aren't growing either.

Scent Hound

Once we got off the interstate and were just a mile or so from our house, I rolled down the windows and let the warm, humid air fill the car. After nine hours on the road, Lucy sat up and lifted her nose, swiveling her head around and snuffling deeply. I swear she made eye contact with me in the rear view and smiled as if to say, We're almost home!

Classic Summer Fun

Decades ago, I attended a dinner party where one of the other guests told me all about a novel he had recently read. The premise was so inventive and fascinating that I bought the book the next day and read the whole thing. The story was about scientists extracting dinosaur DNA from mosquitoes in resin and cloning it, filling in any gaps with frog DNA. Once the dinosaurs were hatched, they were to become the main attractions of a theme park funded by an eccentric billionaire. Of course, it was Jurassic Park.

I couldn't wait to see the movie version when it was released in 1993, especially since it was a Stephen Spielberg film. With the combination of state-of-the-art special effects and Spielberg's storytelling and action sequences, the movie did not disappoint. It was an instant classic and a cultural phenomenon, changing the way we think and talk about dinosaurs.

The same cannot be said about the other six films in the franchise. Lacking the novelty of the first movie, they were at a disadvantage from the start. That is not to say that they can't be entertaining, though, particularly if you manage your expectations, which is why I was looking forward to seeing Jurassic World Rebirth this afternoon. I wasn't expecting to be blown away; I was just looking for some summer blockbuster fun.

And? I was not disappointed.

While You Can

On July 4, 2011, I wrote this:

There's something about a hunt, whether scavenger, treasure, or other, that captures the imagination. Yesterday, when we arrived in Atlanta for our four day visit with my sister's family, one of the first things that Richard wanted to do was to "make a treasure hunt." At almost six, he had some complex ideas about hiding and seeking treasure, and even though I immediately recalled my mother's version, we played his way, and it was fun. 

This afternoon, though, as the threatening rain clouds ultimately gave way to thunder, lightning, and even some heavy rain, I sat down with a pencil and some slips of colored paper, and sketched a few of the more easily recognizable cardinal points in the house. Next I placed them carefully just as I remembered my mother doing, and then I handed Richard the first clue, and off he went on a hunt for treasure through his very own home. It was as big a hit with him and his three-and-a-half year old sister, Annabelle, as I remember it being with us.

I was a little worried that the kids wouldn't recognize my drawings, but they did pretty well.

"That's my hamper!" Annabelle exclaimed, looking at one of the clues.

"No, it's the basket in the dining room," I gently corrected her.

"That is her hamper," my sister told me, "I just haven't put it away, yet."

"I know just what this is," Richard assured me a few minutes later with a confident grin as he scanned another of the clues, "I've lived here a long time." And with that, he dashed off in search of treasure.

And the next day, this: 

 Around the same time that we were having treasure hunts on rainy days, courtesy of my mom, Saturday mornings were spent under the care of my dad while my mother taught religion classes at our church. He always fried bacon, cut oranges into eighths, and served us coffee with lots of milk and sugar. He would also use all the furniture cushions and some blankets to help us make forts in the living room where we would eat our bacon and oranges, drink our coffee, and peek out to watch cartoons on TV.

As I write, Richard and Annabelle are camped out on top of their bed pillows, surrounded by couch cushions with a Diego blanket draped over the top, and watching Scooby Doo on the iPad. It is a pretty impressive structure, if I do say so myself. Thanks, Dad.

This early July finds us once again in Atlanta, but now Richard and Annabelle are in their late teens, and of course, their lives are a lot busier than they were in 2011. Over the last couple of days, Richard put in two shifts at his job at a pet supply store, and Annabelle was off to a lake house with friends. 

And now I understand that the real treasure back then was having so much time with them.