I am shuttling cars over the pass this morning before meeting mom for her monthly shot in her eye to treat macular degeneration. Our 1997 Mercury Tracer - the only car my string bass fits into - has a leaky oil pan and it is creating a messy driveway. It will be in the shop for two days and back just in time for the orchestra dress rehearsal on Wednesday.
It is going to be a wild week. Lots of rehearsals, another meeting, my eye needing laser to reduce the pressure and the orchestra concert on Saturday night.
Last Saturday was a washout. I did nothing except pay the bills. I was exhausted. Yesterday, we went over the hill to food shop, I made baklava for the guys at the garage this morning then made dinner. Lots of pans!
While I was cooking, Michael did the gardening and started a larger project of removing some large tule from their pots. It is going to take a lot of effort to remove them properly without breaking the pots.
Here's a story for you: Years ago, British Don along with his friends Paul and Anthony came to America from Great Britain after graduating college. Jobs were waiting for them as they dropped each one off at their new home in their new land. First, Anthony landed in Oklahoma City where he worked for an architectural company and now owns an award winning design firm. We have stayed with him while on our road trips. Second, Paul began at an architectural firm in San Francisco but it wasn't long before he opened his own very successful firm. Finally, Don arrived at his new job having to do with electrical engineering in submarines in Long Beach. Welcome to America!
The three remained friends, British Don got a job in the Bay Area so he and Paul were reunited. The three friends maintained a deep friendship throughout the years.
Don and his wife moved into our neighborhood. Their daughter was William's age so we had a small play group together. After their divorce, we became even closer to Don. Through him, we met Paul. I remember Paul telling me about being diagnosed with colon cancer in his early 40s. He fought it. Two days before he died, he finally stopped and went to bed. He was one strong, focused man.
Paul was a rather famous, extremely creative and an intelligent human. He loved the American-style hot rods. He had a 1941 Dodge convertible that he found in a field somewhere with lots of bullet holes and rust. Through Don, he asked Michael if he would help him with his project. Michael did all the needed body work and dealt with other issues with the car for free. It was the right thing to do. The body of the car was finished by the time Paul died but there were other issues that needed to be fixed for it to be completely finished. Michael also helped with this final stage along with Anthony, Don and Anthony's son. They wanted it finished as a tribute to Paul.
Mark, Paul's brother, is writing a book about his brother and has asked Michael to contribute a chapter about the hot rod. We sat down yesterday and wrote a draft together and sent it off to Mark in England. We also sent it to British Don. He replied that he was still weeping after reading it as all the memories of Paul had flooded back.
We both feel like we accomplished quite a bit yesterday: the chapter's first draft was submitted, the gardens are in order, there is food in the refrigerator, the wash is done. We are ready for the wild week ahead.