Friday, February 16, 2007

Planning for President's Day

Don’t know about you, but I am freaking-glad it’s Friday. I hope you are looking forward to a long, holiday weekend.

Monday is the government-sanctioned day of public slackedness in the form of President’s Day. Unlike Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Grandparents’ Day, and (some suspect) Valentine’s Day, President’s Day was not created by the greeting card industry.

This one belongs to the Retail Sector. The sales activity generated by President’s Day promotional extravaganzas must generate at least 1% of annual GDP.
I don’t know that for a fact, but the metaphor seems apropos.

Long weekends are good for a lot of reasons.
Fewer disgruntled former employees enter their former worksites, armed to the teeth, and blast away their frustrations on President’s Day. Could be those places are closed…but, hey, a little time off is always good for the constitution.

Long weekends are good for getting things done you can’t get done the rest of the time, working 32-hours a week. (What—you work more than that??) This weekend, we’re moving our precious daughter from The Clanton Hacienda into a rental property that she and one of her running buddies have decided to share.
That’s a big step…at both ends of the equation.

Both of our kids went away to school, so the initial shock of emptied closets and vacant dirty clothes hampers has been broached and conquered. But we knew they’d come back--on weekends, during mid-semester breaks…when they were hungry.
This is different.
She’s going to be Out On Her Own.

We’ve had time to prepare for this.
The replacement furniture for her soon-to-be vacant room is waiting.
Much to the chagrin of our son, the décor will not include anything having to do with billiards or large format video playback devices.

If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you will also recall the saga of the small yappy dogs that have infested The Clanton Hacienda. On the same day that Satan began serving ice cubes, we allowed a small, furry, four-legged creature to take up residence under our roof.

My bride was besmitten, and when our daughter announced her intentions to move out, and the pooch was also being packed, I did the only sensible thing a sensitive, caring and otherwise irrational husband would do: got a surrogate canine companion to salvage her sanity.

Yep…two (smack) two (smack) two dogs in one house.

So the furniture is staged, boxes are packed, and all is in a state of readiness for our little girl to spread her wings and fly from the nest. It’ll take the long weekend to complete the transition.
Don’t think I will ever get totally used to the idea, though.

3 comments:

Ray said...

It mkes for an unearthly silence. Its louder than actual noise ,and a feeling wells up that a chapter in your life has gone too fast. You remember the day your child entered the world,only more clearly. It is said a mother sheds her tears when the first child is born and when the last one leaves. For most parents, they discover one another all over again in a wiser light. Others merely see four walls and wonder where the time went. That is where I was,when MY only child left,and his mother and i had long since gone are seperate ways. I raised him from the diaper to the his first car. Last Thursday he like you, had a birthday. Suddenly 26 years doesn't seem to have been that long. You close one chapter and begin another,and pray the final chapter doesn't come soon. There will be more smiles when the child brings their own into the world,then you will see the results of being a parent is carried forward once mor.e

Anonymous said...

In a post script . I pray I learn how to type at least a whole week without typos and the proper use of words instead of homonyms.

Anonymous said...

A guy once told me a gambler always goes with Christianity, because he couldn't go wrong. If there is no God, he's lived a good life. If there turns out to be a world described in the Bible, he's believed and goes to Heaven.
The argument that global warming is a joke seems to be much the same. Even if it isn't true the benefits of acting like it is far out way the benefits of not doing the things people are saying we need to do. When I wake up and the sky is brown from smog or I'm told on the news it's not a good day to take a run, because air quality is so bad, I have to question the intentions of those that write off global warming. What is the motive in calling scientist "Kooks"? Is this really all about money? Are we so smitten with wealth that we'd burn out our lungs in it's pursuit?