The First Lady and I have been in our new home for a little over three months and pretty much have the kinks out, and have things where we want them. We knew we wanted to have a house blessing, it was just a matter of getting back to town and finding a day where our priest was available. Saturday, August 20 turned out to be that day.
The day started early, with a 5K road race I ran as a member of a local race team. 5:45 wake up for a 7 am start. I was home by 9:30, and after an apple fritter and a Bavarian crème-filled long john, I cleaned up and got about the business of being a host. We had the munchies and antifreeze already, so some light cleanup work was all that we needed.
We invited friends from all our different circles, and they started to arrive about 3:10. We had a full house about a half hour later. We were absolutely thrilled that so many people (41 by our count) wanted to share in our joy—we love our house, our friends and our church, so this was a great chance to put it all together. Father Marc started by blessing the water and praying over each room, sprinkling the water throughout the room at the end. Entryway, kitchen, living room, dining room, bedroom and even the master bathroom were covered. Not covered in the prayer book were storm cellars, of which we have one, so that was the last room to be blessed prior to coming back upstairs for closing prayers and dismissal. I’m on record here as truly loving our church and its priest and people, so it was really special for Ann and me.
We’d timed the event for 3-6 and the actual blessing at 4, since we knew folks had plans. But our trivia friends hung around and helped us get rid of some of the beer in the fridge. Much food, music, fun, libation and laughter were had by all. The conversation had found a dull point at one juncture, and the music from my Ipod got a razzing. The Wayman Tisdale albums had run their course, so I continued with more jazz from my Weather Channel collection. I like the stuff, but it was kind of like bad wallpaper. So out came the rap. I have no idea who most of the artists were, but I did learn that I have friends who know their rhymes.
The whole day turned out to be something really special for Ann and me—a home we love, surrounded by friends we love. I know it sounds corny, but it really was a day we’ll both remember for a long, long time.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
EAOS +18
August 9, 1993 was a great day in world history. It was the day that marked the end of my active obligatory service in the U.S. Navy, closing the first four-year chapter of my post-high school life. I marked the occasion back then on my brother’s couch in San Diego, on my way back from Honolulu. It’s where I came to love that town. Great climate and lots to do. Went to a few Padres games, even an Angels game as Robert picked me up at LAX early one morning.
One thing disappointed me on that trip—my good friend John, with whom I grew up swimming and playing games with, was on the USS Constellation, which had just pulled in to town after dry dock in Philadelphia. I left a message onboard, but got his last name wrong, since his mother had remarried before he was born. We could’ve touched base back then and been better friends, instead of seeing him for the first time since high school in Harrison, Arkansas, stopping for lunch on our way to Alabama. We were virtually strangers, but I was happy to reconnect.
By now, August 9 is just another day, and I spent it at the running store. It was a very busy weekend there, with Alabama’s statewide tax-free weekend in full effect. Our store isn’t very big to begin with, and it was pretty crowded most of the time. Our new manager has taken over, and he seems like a nice guy. There’s another new guy there also—someone looking for a few extra bucks. He was in the store all the time anyway—I used to joke that we should put him on the payroll, but I didn’t think he’d take me seriously! But he’s a nice man, and will be fun to work with.
Yesterday I had to change a tire on the SUV for the first time in two years. I was on my way to the bank and took a corner too tight (a sewer drain corner, btw) and blew the right rear tire. You know how it is, when you hear rattling—you hope it goes away. But then that old familiar sound that reminds of a helicopter swooping down kicks in, and suddenly, plans change.
Now it’s 9:15 am in Tuscaloosa, but it’s still steaming hot. I was on the shady side of the car as I got down to business, but it was a small comfort, as sweat just poured off me and onto the pavement. It reminded me of the time I changed a tire in the parking lot at KCI after our house-hunting trip in July 2009. That was midnight, midsummer in the Midwest, and it was way worse then as compared to Wednesday.
Things worked out well enough—I got chores done and got back in time to open the store at 10, but I was an absolute mess. Thankfully, it was the first day of school in Tuscaloosa County, so business was slow enough to where my condition wasn’t an issue.
One thing disappointed me on that trip—my good friend John, with whom I grew up swimming and playing games with, was on the USS Constellation, which had just pulled in to town after dry dock in Philadelphia. I left a message onboard, but got his last name wrong, since his mother had remarried before he was born. We could’ve touched base back then and been better friends, instead of seeing him for the first time since high school in Harrison, Arkansas, stopping for lunch on our way to Alabama. We were virtually strangers, but I was happy to reconnect.
By now, August 9 is just another day, and I spent it at the running store. It was a very busy weekend there, with Alabama’s statewide tax-free weekend in full effect. Our store isn’t very big to begin with, and it was pretty crowded most of the time. Our new manager has taken over, and he seems like a nice guy. There’s another new guy there also—someone looking for a few extra bucks. He was in the store all the time anyway—I used to joke that we should put him on the payroll, but I didn’t think he’d take me seriously! But he’s a nice man, and will be fun to work with.
Yesterday I had to change a tire on the SUV for the first time in two years. I was on my way to the bank and took a corner too tight (a sewer drain corner, btw) and blew the right rear tire. You know how it is, when you hear rattling—you hope it goes away. But then that old familiar sound that reminds of a helicopter swooping down kicks in, and suddenly, plans change.
Now it’s 9:15 am in Tuscaloosa, but it’s still steaming hot. I was on the shady side of the car as I got down to business, but it was a small comfort, as sweat just poured off me and onto the pavement. It reminded me of the time I changed a tire in the parking lot at KCI after our house-hunting trip in July 2009. That was midnight, midsummer in the Midwest, and it was way worse then as compared to Wednesday.
Things worked out well enough—I got chores done and got back in time to open the store at 10, but I was an absolute mess. Thankfully, it was the first day of school in Tuscaloosa County, so business was slow enough to where my condition wasn’t an issue.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Tampa Trip, Vol. II
We’re back to the grind in Tuscaloosa, some time after returning from vacation in Tampa. Boy, was it a helluva time. Most of the trip has already been documented, but I thought I’d take a minute or two to talk about the experiences that didn’t involve food or running.
First off, church. Ann and I absolutely love going to church together. We go for pretty much the same reasons, and we take great joy in worshiping together. We went to St. Mary’s Episcopal Church, which is just down the street from our cousin’s home. It was the final sermon for their rector (priest in charge) before retirement, so he spent time hitting some of the highlights of our prayer book—things he thought were most important, since it would be his last time in the pulpit. We’ve always found Episcopal hospitality to be some of the finest around, and this was no exception.
The same can be said for the following Sunday, as we traveled downtown for a trip to St. Andrew’s. The building is a Spanish mission-style building, built around 1904, according to their web site. The parish itself formed in 1874. It’s also on the National Register of Historic Places. We thoroughly enjoyed the worship experience. We noted a plaque in the sanctuary after the service, and an usher, likely noting that we weren’t regulars, told us the story of a gentleman whose name was on the plaque. Apparently there was a storm many moons ago, and he, I believe a vestryman, was on a ship at the time, and apparently is still on patrol.
Tuesday was tour day, as Ann and I toured Raymond James Stadium, where the Tampa Bay Buccaneers play. Six bucks per person, but truly a bargain.
There were about 75-100 people there, basically with the intent of taking pictures, ourselves included. Locker rooms, on the field, near the famous pirate ship, skyboxes, etc. It’s quite the excellent facility.
The Tampa Yankees were also at home, playing the Palm Beach Cardinals, in minor-league baseball.
We sat six rows behind home plate for six bucks a ticket for a thirsty Thursday game. It was pretty steamy outside, and I had my polyester Cloud County baseball jersey on, so it was a little rough. The stadium is pretty good-sized, so as to handle large spring training crowds, so it kind of looked like nobody was there. Decent crowd, just spread out all over the park. The rugrats in the stands didn’t have much competition as they chased the foul balls.
Wednesday afternoon was soccer day, as the U.S. Women’s National Team played France in the World Cup semifinals. As I drove to the waterfront for my runs, I noticed a bar that would show the match, set for a noon kickoff on the east coast. . I’m a soccer watcher and follower, but I’m not hard core. I watched Abby Wambach head the ball in late against Brazil Sunday, so I was already invested, and ready for some ball. An early goal meant free beer as long as the gals were ahead. France tied the game, but our side scored again, so more beverage, followed by a victory.
The finals were Sunday against Japan, which made it interesting, logistically, since it was getaway day. Saw our first goal at the house, heard about the second one on gametracker on my phone, heard the US take the lead as I was going through security, and the rest on an airport TV. We were pretty bummed, but I saw an Asian (presumably Japanese)walking in the terminal and smiling from ear to ear.
I also hit the local running store, and was pretty jealous of how much space there was there, as compared to my store. I’d forgotten my body glide, so we had to pick some up.
Sadly, I had to leave Florida and Ann behind, but lots of great memories remain.
First off, church. Ann and I absolutely love going to church together. We go for pretty much the same reasons, and we take great joy in worshiping together. We went to St. Mary’s Episcopal Church, which is just down the street from our cousin’s home. It was the final sermon for their rector (priest in charge) before retirement, so he spent time hitting some of the highlights of our prayer book—things he thought were most important, since it would be his last time in the pulpit. We’ve always found Episcopal hospitality to be some of the finest around, and this was no exception.
The same can be said for the following Sunday, as we traveled downtown for a trip to St. Andrew’s. The building is a Spanish mission-style building, built around 1904, according to their web site. The parish itself formed in 1874. It’s also on the National Register of Historic Places. We thoroughly enjoyed the worship experience. We noted a plaque in the sanctuary after the service, and an usher, likely noting that we weren’t regulars, told us the story of a gentleman whose name was on the plaque. Apparently there was a storm many moons ago, and he, I believe a vestryman, was on a ship at the time, and apparently is still on patrol.
Tuesday was tour day, as Ann and I toured Raymond James Stadium, where the Tampa Bay Buccaneers play. Six bucks per person, but truly a bargain.
There were about 75-100 people there, basically with the intent of taking pictures, ourselves included. Locker rooms, on the field, near the famous pirate ship, skyboxes, etc. It’s quite the excellent facility.
The Tampa Yankees were also at home, playing the Palm Beach Cardinals, in minor-league baseball.
We sat six rows behind home plate for six bucks a ticket for a thirsty Thursday game. It was pretty steamy outside, and I had my polyester Cloud County baseball jersey on, so it was a little rough. The stadium is pretty good-sized, so as to handle large spring training crowds, so it kind of looked like nobody was there. Decent crowd, just spread out all over the park. The rugrats in the stands didn’t have much competition as they chased the foul balls.
Wednesday afternoon was soccer day, as the U.S. Women’s National Team played France in the World Cup semifinals. As I drove to the waterfront for my runs, I noticed a bar that would show the match, set for a noon kickoff on the east coast. . I’m a soccer watcher and follower, but I’m not hard core. I watched Abby Wambach head the ball in late against Brazil Sunday, so I was already invested, and ready for some ball. An early goal meant free beer as long as the gals were ahead. France tied the game, but our side scored again, so more beverage, followed by a victory.
The finals were Sunday against Japan, which made it interesting, logistically, since it was getaway day. Saw our first goal at the house, heard about the second one on gametracker on my phone, heard the US take the lead as I was going through security, and the rest on an airport TV. We were pretty bummed, but I saw an Asian (presumably Japanese)walking in the terminal and smiling from ear to ear.
I also hit the local running store, and was pretty jealous of how much space there was there, as compared to my store. I’d forgotten my body glide, so we had to pick some up.
Sadly, I had to leave Florida and Ann behind, but lots of great memories remain.
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