mandag, marts 05, 2007

Memory Stick

That it is or was even real is and will be a mystery to me. Early evening in a warmer month, or mid-afternoon on an overcast day, Allison came by on some sort of scooter. A Vespa. Something like that. We were maybe 17.

She was showing off this new mode of transport in her life. She took off out my driveway, drove a block and returned. A police car pulled up.

The officer checked her license, told her she was not allowed to ride this thing without either a helmet or protective eye wear. We asked if that included sunglasses. He said it did.

So when she left soon after this encounter she left with a pair of my sunglasses (which would have been my only sunglasses as I detest the feel of glasses on my nose). Or maybe I had a pair of fake glasses (as even now in my 30s I still have perfect vision--THIS is what I'm bragging about! Lame--and must pretend I need them when I want to look like a smarty pants).

Or maybe I gave her a pair of clear protective goggles for working, say, on home construction projects. Maybe I gave her some of my father's protective eyewear.

But I recall her on the scooter, and I recall the cop. And I recall her driving away once (the initial event that drew the police officer to us). But I don't recall her on that thing again or even hearing about it.

Pilgrim's Progress

We've progressed a great deal at the pub. Here's a shot from a ladder looking down the bar side of the joint. (The restaurant side is about to be converted from a wood prepping and construction room to an actual restaurant.) We've much more to peg to the booth walls and quite a bit of post-demolition work to do around the bar, but the major stuff is out of the way on this side.

Bill's just about resolved the electrical crap and has the kits ready for the walls, John's just about finished the trim work, and Gary's almost done with the sanding, staining, varnishing and painting.

Big thanks to Kym, Jordan, Chris and Linda for stopping by to help clean up the joint. Frank and his wife continue to tackle a kitchen that no food should have come out of. (Dear god. This place won't have had food this clean since that equipment was first installed! Frank: You are a prince for strapping on those gloves and taking on the grease.) Keith: Keep working on the wi-fi, you magnificent bastard! And Walt, Dick, and Jennifer: thanks for dropping in to check on the progress. We appreciate your interest.

More soon and God bless the Welsh!

Happy days,
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