I'm sipping my coffee on the front porch, relaxed. It's so peaceful... tranquil...
WHERE'S MY #$@!!%%&@!!! DOCK???!!!
This sends me and my dad on a dreadful walk down the hill. I'm figuring it's blown into the cove (or worse into the lake) and it's going to be some major job getting the stupid thing back to where it's suppose to be. Neither dad nor I brought swim suits. I'm making my peace with living a dock-less existence when...
Hmmmm, so the lake is a tad low, hiding the dock below the line of sight and the dock needs repair. Naturally I didn't think to bring a circular saw - GROAN. Oh well something to do in the spring.
Low Lake, Forlorn Dock
We have no TV so we break out the tractors and start to work on mowing my sister's lot where dad amused himself by lapping me with the zero turn while I lumbered around on a regular mowing tractor.
Getting Lapped, Again!
Once we wrapped that up we went to Skipper's, the best barbecue place in Henderson.
Interior of Skipper's
The waitress walking towards me is Crystal and I confess to falling in love with her a little after the flash went off and she looked up, grinned ear to ear and drawled out, "Chueeeeeessssee," slaying me with that Southern drawl. Wish I would have caught her grin in the pic. She took our order (I had Brunswick stew, barbecue, black eyed peas, green peas and sweet tea, I can't recall what dad got except for the stew). I got so enamored with Crystal that I bought her t-shirt. Well not her t-shirt, I mean I doubt if she'd sell it to me even if I'd ask, probably figuring me for some sort of phreak - I mean what would she wear then her bra? At work?! That would be weird. I bought a shirt like hers... yeah. Enough about the darned shirt already and stop looking at me like that!
After that we headed back to the cottage and napped. I woke up on the couch and careful not to wake dad dozing upstairs I snuck out into the heat and mowed some more. As I was coming around the shed where we keep the tractors I got to watch the wind catch the large door just right and rip two of its three hinges off since the ground was so hard from lack of rain that we couldn't properly secure it open. Filled with despair I hop off the zero turn and wrestle the door closed so the wind can't damage it further.
Great. Now I have to go to Lowes and deal with their incredibly unmotivated staff and get some hinges, bolts and a drill bit to punch through metal to replace these goofy things. I'm just glad dad brought a drill.
WHERE IS THE #$@!!%%&@!!! CAR??!!
Oh, I see. While I was in dreamland my father snuck off to play Scrabble in our only means of transportation so I guess the door is gonna wait. I thought he was waiting for Aunt Betty (Aunt by marriage) to show up so they could go over to Nat's together.
Scrabble Playing Fools
But Scrabble is it's own addiction and one must not get between the addict and his opponent. Dad's already been under enormous strain having no Fox News for the last eighteen or so hours so I "get it."
I plop down on a couch and continue reading Black Hills which hasn't really gripped me yet. About ten minutes later Betty shows up and I'm in her car getting what I need for the goofy door. I decide not only to get the hinges but a pair of serious loppers because dad complains about how crappy the ones we have down here are.
I'm standing in line joking with the cash register dude about something when this other dude chimes in behind me joining the fun. This dude is a true Hendersonian and his accent lends credence to that. I've only discovered this particular dialect of 'Southern' in Henderson (pronounced Henneson by the natives, and it's CAR lake not Kerr lake you yankee!) but if you were to attempt a North Carolinian accent (as opposed to a Texas one - my name is Beel down there) after ripping most of your teeth out and numbing your lips and tongue with Novocain you'd get an idea of what this mush mouth dialect sounds like.
I'm making out an occasional word from this guy, "Mumble gnash mumble garble ceramic tile mutter mumble garble..." when this other dude behind him starts laughing at the joke this guy was telling! I felt like I was in Poland, comprehending nothing and merely grinned like an idiot, payed for my stuff and left.
When I got back my dad was there and he and Betty pulled up some chairs, proceeded to get hammered and watched me work on the door.
I'd occasionally annoy dad by asking him to hold some socket wrench while I screwed in the bolt from the other side. Since there were six bolts per hinge and a fair amount of beer involved it took some time getting the right bolt selected ("Noooo, the middle bolt on YOUR right side as you face the door...").
When I was done it looked like this, see my shiny brass hinges? Then we had supper which looked like this (see Bubbles, I was a good boy)! Betty is an awesome cook by the way.
Chicken Pot Pie, fruit salad, regular salad
Sunset
The next morning we tackled the following chores before heading over to Nat's for dinner (lunch, they call lunch "dinner" down here to confuse you).
Next we worked on the sign to to cottage, mine being a modest black arrow that was the original sign when my Uncle B owned the joint, carved from a tobacco stick. I refurbished it, put waaayyyy too much polyurethane on it and now it's peeling like a bad sunburn.
We spruced it up by adding a blue bird house.
Off to Nat's for supper and more Scrabble
Biscuits not shown...
Then back to the cottage and cleaning out the Martin houses and adding some new gourds.
Fancy New Gourds Should Bring the Martins in Droves!
And that was pretty much it. I had a great time with my dad and seeing my relatives and getting the cottage prepped for winter. Thanks to Betty for coming up to help and hanging with us! It was a perfect long weekend.
I love this sign at the cottage... should keep the villains at bay huh?
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