The garage sale came and wet. Elise and I both work up at 6 a.m. this morning and got to work. We managed to sell 75% of our junk for a cool $300 and the other 4 neighbors did really well as well.
I’ve already managed to spend our “profit” by buying an Ooma, which will save us some cash in monthly phone service fees in a couple months.
It’d been on my mind’s backburner to get the garage to where it is a working garage, meaning that I at least have a table at which I can work. We’ve been in our house almost 5 years now and my “working” space has been limited to approximately 24-inches on a 12-inch wide storage shelf.
On Saturday afternoon, Maly and I dropped Elise off at the dress shop so she could get her bride’s maid dress altered. I’m lucky I remember that much of what it is that she did. I ordinarily would have just assumed that women meet in strip malls on Saturday’s to watch Oprah together.
Maly and I drove over to the HoPot, grabbed one of those honkin’ haulin’ carts and started loading up lumber and hardware. After approximately 20 seconds in the hardware department, Maly started reorganizing things to fit her style. So while I was trying to find 30 different pieces of specific hardware for one project that I’m working on, Maly managed to rearrange and misplace who knows how many lag bolts, hex nuts, washers and other various lengths and dimensions of otherwise meticulously-managed hardware.
Elise walked from the dress shop to the HoPot and managed to get there in time to distract Maly while I finished shopping. Much to my surprise, we left the HoPot with $104 worth of lumber and hardware.
I spent the rest of the afternoon building a much-needed work bench.
Shortly after I was done with my workbench, Maly awoke from her nap and it was time to head out to Angela’s fiancee’s birthday party. We braved the traffic and crowds of ACL Fest and found parking just at the front door of Green Mesquite. We asked the bartender where the birthday party was. He informed us that they hadn’t arrived yet. We were a little perplexed as we were 45 minutes late.
We grabbed a picnic table on the patio, ordered a couple beers and dinner for Maly. Maly wolfed down her brisket as a true Texan should, and we waited some more. Still no birthday party people. We inquired with our waitress if the party had been canceled. She confirmed that no one had called to cancel. Elise and I had another beer and ordered dinner.
No party ever showed. We stuffed our faces with barbecue, watched Maly chase ladybugs and birds and listened to some good Texas country music from whoever the hell it was playing at the Green Mesquite last night.
We stopped at the HoPot on the way home so I could pick up some more lumber to finish off my workbench and to build a little chair for the little desk that I made for her earlier this year.
I worked in the garage until midnight, and spent the better part of today working in the garage, getting things to where I think I finally want them to be.
I was pulled away for a while so I could mow the yard and cook porkchops for dinner. It was this evening when I think my grill that I inherited from my dad finally crapped out on me; not so much crapped out as I think it’s become a volatile fire hazard. To end my weekend, I’m going to start shopping a new grill for a Christmas present for yours truly.
Elise and I celebrated our 7th anniversary this past Monday. My original plan was to take Elise out to dinner and then maybe a night out on the town on the actual date of our anniversary. Christine graciously volunteered herself and John to watch Maly on the 13th, which allowed us to have a night out in Fredericksburg, which turned out to be an eventful hassle, but a memorable experience nonetheless.
So I decided to stick to my plan and reschedule my dinner reservations for this past Monday. Elise has always wanted to eat at Uchi, and I’ve been somewhat inclined as well.
Instead of hiring a babysitter, I decided, without Elise’s knowledge, that Maly would be joining us for dinner. I told her to meet me at the office at 5:45 p.m. She, being of the female persuasion, wanted to know how to dress. Instead of trying to harness the non-existent fashionista-within, I just told her where we were eating.
We got to Uchi right on time, Maly in-tow. Our waiter was awesome and quick to recommend some food items that were somewhat kid friendly; the first being jasmine sorbet. Elise and I ordered a couple glasses of wine and realized we needed to rush a bit as Maly wasn’t going to last for a lengthy romantic anniversary dinner date.
Elise started with the maguru sashimi and goat cheese. I started with the hama chili. Maly licked the spoon of her sorbet and stabbed at her tofu cubes with a chopstick.
Next up, I ordered the hot rock, wagyu beef that I seared myself on a 500-degree Japanese river rock. The smell of seared beef lead me to order the ‘pitchfork’ makimono roll, which is wagyu beef, avocado, tonburi land caviar and leeks. Elise ordered zero sen roll yellowtail tuna, shallots, roe and cilantro. Maly had another shot of jasmine sorbet.
Within an hour, we were in and out. We’d ordered tempura pumpkin for Maly, which we had to consume since she didn’t want anything to do with it. She preferred the sweet goodness of the sorbet that reminded Elise and me of the bathrooms in the Flamingo in Vegas.
To treat Maly for being such a trooper during dinner, we drove a block down and bought her a cup of ice cream from McDonalds. So for our anniversary, Maly had two cups of sorbet and a whopping cup of ice cream.
Dinner was great, the best part being that I was able to just hang out with my two girls. Elise dropped me off at the parking garage. The girls drove home. I headed home as well, but stopped at HEB for some flowers and a bottle of wine.
By the time I got home, Maly was in bed. Elise and I hung out on the deck, exchanged cards, played 80’s pop music trivia and talked for a while before going to bed relatively early.
Your loving neighbors just might decide to redecorate your living room with their own personal flare.
This weekend Elise and I celebrated our 7th anniversary a little early. Christine and John were gracious enough to take in the Zombie Eater on Saturday and Sunday so Elise and I could head west for Fredericksburg for a weekend getaway, a trip similar to the one we took six years ago.
We dropped Maly off around noon on Saturday and headed out. We got to Johnson City at 1 p.m. and were starving. We stopped at Ronnie’s Pit BBQ. The lunch crowd was long gone and we shared the whole restaurant with only one other table. We stuffed our faces with brisket, cole slaw and beans.
We got back on 290 and kept trekking toward Fredericksburg. We made a short stop at the LBJ State Park and took a tour of the Sauer-Beckmann living history farm where we picked up quite a few life-changing bits of information. For example, chicken egg shells are baked at roughly 300-degrees fahrenheit to eliminate odor and to make the shells harder. The shells are then crushed and fed to the chickens as a calcium supplement. Eliminating smell and changing the consistency of the egg shells prevents the chickens from pecking their own eggs once they they lay them. The calcium supplementation from the shells causes the chickens to produce harder egg shells. The goal was that over time, the chickens would produce nothing but solid, egg-shaped rocks. These rocks would be very difficult for farmers to eat, and thus lead to cracked teeth and gum disease. And that’s the story of how modern dentistry was invented.
We arrived in Fredericksburg at 3 p.m., found a parking spot off Main Street and walked the shops and restaurants for a while. We eventually made our way to the ice cream parlor, where we were to pick up our key to Crenwelge’s Creekside Cottage Bed & Breakfast. While there, Elise got a cup of Tin Roof ice cream. I had the berry cobbler shake. The greatest thing about my shake was that it had REAL pie crust. By REAL pie crust, Blue Bell Creameries means miniature, tasteless soda crackers that wedge themselves into the straw and prevent you from extracting the berry cobbler shake goodness into your mouth.
After getting the key to our B&B, we walked back to the car and found our way to our domicile for the night. We unpacked our bags and Elise decided that she wanted to take a tour of a local winery. She consulted the local visitor’s guide before we were out again and off to Grape Creek Vineyards. Unfortunately they don’t offer tours of their winery, instead they have a tasting room where Elise sampled five of the wines produced on site. Still thirsty for knowledge of the wine making process, Elise asked the resident wine monger about how wine is made. In less than 30 seconds, he gave the both of us a synopsis: “The grapes get squashed. The juices are fermented, aged in casks and then bottled. That’s pretty much it.”
“Great! We will take a bottle of your finest for our friends back home who are watching our child and allowing us this opportunity. We will relay unto them the process in which you use to create your fine nectar.”
And like that, we were off again. Elise said she’d attained ample knowledge of wine making and would like to walk Main Street before dinner. We went back to our B&B, changed clothes and headed back out around 6 p.m. We walked before the storefronts only to find that they’d all closed for the night. Our only option at that point was to decide on where we wanted to have dinner. We walked to the easternmost edge of Main Street and finally settled on The Ausländer. Elise had the Bratwurst. I had the bourbon glazed sirloin. We both had a couple beers and, again, ate way too much while listening to The Modern Day Drifters perform an acoustic set.
After dinner we took a meandering walk back to the B&B to get the car. We got in the car and headed over to the local convenience store to pick up a bottle of wine so we could have a couple drinks in the hot tub before going to bed. We went inside, made our purchase, and went back to the car only to have it not start. A gentleman was getting into his car in the spot next to us, so I stopped him and asked him if he wouldn’t mind giving us a jump start. No dice. Another man was walking into the convenience store and noticed our dilemma. I asked if he knew about cars. He said, “a little”. I took that as sarcasm and assumed he was a mechanic. He tried to start the car. There was enough power to turn on the dome light and stereo, but the car wouldn’t turned over. His expert opinion: “a sensor”.
I went back into the convenience store and called a couple towing companies. Of course, it was 10 p.m. at this point and I knew I wasn’t going to have any luck getting our car towed and worked on on a Saturday night. One local mechanic told me he could come out first thing the next morning and tow it for me. I agreed, took his cell number and planned to call him at 9 a.m. the following morning.
There was no other option other than to just leave the car at the convenience store overnight. We asked the clerks if that would be okay, and they said they’d keep an eye on things for us.
We walked the five blocks back to the B&B, changed into our swimsuits and got into the hot tub. The wine ran aplenty as did the conversation. Unfortunately, probably due to the recent car experience, the conversation turned into more of an altercation and, long-story-short, we both went to bed mad…
Which meant we both woke up mad. We got up early, politely avoided each other and got ready before heading out to check on the car at the convenience store. I was hoping that after a night’s rest, the car would magically start. It didn’t. So we walked all the way back to the B&B. I called Aaron, the mechanic that I’d spoken to on the phone the night before. He agreed to come out and tow the car. In the meantime, I’d made arrangements with John to have him drive out to Fredericksburg to come pick us up as Aaron was probably going to need to order parts, which meant the car wouldn’t be ready until Tuesday or later.
Elise called the owners of the B&B and explained our predicament. They were nice enough to allow us to keep our base until we got a ride back to Austin.
We walked back to the convenience store to meet Aaron. I gave him my contact information and watched as he towed the car away.
Then we walked back to the B&B again. Elise took a shower and I paced around. Ten minute later, Aaron called me.
“Josh, guess what?”
“Don’t tell me you already got it fixed.”
“Yessir. Just needed a new battery. If I come pick you up, will you drive me back to my shop?”
We called to put a hold on the efforts in Austin to come pick us up. A few minutes later, Aaron pulled up to the B&B in our car and we were on the road to take Aaron back to his shop.
“You know, when you called last night, my kids and I were playing tennis on the Nintendo Wii. You ever played that Wii thing?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Say, you want to play a quick set? If I beat you, you don’t charge me for the new battery?”
“Ha ha! No, sir. I haven’t had that much practice.”
“Aaron, you ever heard the story about how modern dentistry was invented?”
“…”
So I drove back to the B&B where Elise was packing up our stuff. Soon the owners drove up to clean up for the next renters. We wound up talking to them for half an hour or so. Then it was time to end our eventful mini-vacation. We hit the road but not before stopping at a nursery for a plate thing (that’s the technical term for something Elise decided we needed for the house) and a wooden Santa Clause for our mantle for Christmas time. We stopped in Johnson City again for lunch at Silver K Cafe.
We got home around 3 p.m. on Sunday. Even though it wasn’t really the 24-hour getaway we’d hoped for, I couldn’t have had a better time — just my wife and me.
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