Activity

Our house has been a beehive of activity lately, and while Abigail certainly contributes to it, she is not the sum total of it. I think it has to do with growing up. When our boys were little, a large pile of Legos in the middle of the basement floor kept them occupied for hours. This was accomplished in a rather small space. It also left little foot-mines all over the place that would unexectedly show up underneath your stockinged foot at exactly the same time that you placed all your body weight on it.

Now the Legos have grown up. They are teenagers now. What used to be little pieces of plastic the size of a quarter are now life-sized bikes and cars. And those foot mines? No longer made of plastic, they are now made of steel and rubber and copper. They are now shaped like bolts and nuts and extension cords and miscellaneous car parts and ... tools. They are ready to connect with the unsuspecting foot in the garage, the barn, and even in the house. Fortunately, the garage and barn are places for footwear sturdier than cotton socks.

Legos were also nice quiet things that would only make noise if you dropped them. And then they would split into zillions of pieces and contribute to the foot-mine problem.

Last night we were treated to the sounds of David's latest project. He bought a car. Not just any car. A Thunderbird Super Coupe. With a supercharged 3.8 v6 engine. Non-functional, of course. Functioning would have been beyond his budget. This car now occupies the space in the garage formerly allocated to the van. The driver of the van is not pleased about this new turn of events, because now her car sits outside. But Deb reluctantly but graciously allowed this to happen (temporarily), knowing that it is much easier to work on a car when there isn't two feet of snow on the hood.

David and his friend, Patrick Roersma, a mechanic and auto-body "wizard" of Carlisle Auto Body, worked on the car last night. I was downstairs with Abigail. I could hear various noises filtering in from the garage, but it wasn't until after David came down and gave me a status update that the symphony really began. He told me they disconnected the mufflers in case they were plugged.

The next noises I heard were considerably louder. A sudden roar erupted from the garage, rising and falling in crescendo, accompanied by all sorts of banging and popping sounds. This went on for perhaps thirty seconds and then the night was silent again. This happened a couple more times, then David burst in, asking for the camera. "The smoke is so thick in the garage, you can't see from one side to the other!" he exclaimed.

He missed his picture. The smoke had already begun to clear by the time he returned to the garage.

Meanwhile, for the last several days, Josh has been refinishing the kitchen door that leads into the garage. This door has been looking very tough as it is the main portal in and out of our home for ourselves and nearly every piece of furniture that has entered or exited our home. After over 17 years of this, it was time for a facelift. Josh stripped it to bare wood, re-stained and re-varnished it. It really looks nice now.

So for the past several days, the main path into our house has been the garage walkway littered with car parts, fighting our way through the plastic sheeting hanging over the open doorway, over the dust and old varnish which came off the door, and finally into the kitchen. Several of our visitors have had the privelege of running this gauntlet along with us.

Abigail thinks this is all normal.

Perhaps she is right.