The second week looked a bit more promising. There was one day…Tuesday… where the icon was a pure, unapologetic, grinning sun. No clouds. No lightning. No weather watch. My hopes for redemption were kinda pinned to that one day. On Monday, my dearest packed the children, packed a lunch, packed the car and headed off to the farm for poney rides and a picnic…damn the torpedoes. She rocked…in spite of the thunderstorm icons and the 60% chance of showers, she got a little drizzle. My Monday was different.
Several weeks ago, inexplicably, the papers for renewing my two vehicles mysteriously went awol at a family gathering during an exchange of paper unseen since the end of the cold war. I glimpsed them briefly so I know they were to renew my plates. So last week I tried to renew them without the papers and managed to renew the first one…the second required some sort of emission test before renewal. So it came to pass that the first day of the second week of my holidays was set aside to renew my plates because, in Chaosville, nothing is simple. I know this to be true because, the previous day, while driving the vehicle in question for the first time in awhile, the “Check engine” light comes on. Hmmm. “Oh yeah,” says the spousal unit, “meant to tell you about that awhile back….”
So on Monday morning, I hook up the code reader thingie to the vehicle and get a “PO401″ code which, wouldn’t you know it, maps out to a fault in some emission control sensor. Great…I’m thinking. The emission centre guy is more optimistic. Turns out he’s right and, after a leisurely lunch all by myself, I pick up the certificate of emission acceptability and head off to renew the plates. In a perfect world, things would have gone smoothly but since my world is not perfect yet, there was a glitch at the licensing office. Because my vehicle is registered to the company (of which I am President, CEO and chief bottle washer) then I need a Letter of Authorization from a Duly Appointed Director of the Corporation authorizing me to transact on behalf of the company…on company letterhead. I guess the veins popping on my temple probably alerted her of an impending trip to postalville so she handed me a blank piece of paper and said “or you could just write it out…”. Obviously, a tragedy had been averted. A sticker was awarded and suddenly, I was back on the highway to Vacationville…if only I could convince the Weather Guy to come onboard.
Did I mention that my 2 year old boy wants the Deck Building Guy to be his new dad? Guess he’s more fun, what with those powertool and what not…. Alas, the Weather Guy is not a nice guy. Tuesday’s bright sunny day got transformed early into a “cloudy with sunny periods” day. Mostly the cloudy part. And the high of 26 C got demoted to 23. Since my new tractor was back from the repair shop for it’s second warranty repair in the first two weeks of iits life, I started off the morning mowing the lawn. With all the rain, nothing is really dry. So mowing is the lawn is really more like ripping the lawn apart. Regardless…I sometimes find it relaxing. Then the contractor for my deck (to go around the pool) showed up and suggested preparatory work might be needed. So it came to be that the second day of my holiday was spent shovelling dirt, hauling stone dust and, for a brief 30 minute period, jumping into a sparkling pool of somewhat coolish water and wondering what is actually meant by “global warming.”
Wednesday: sunny until 07:15 hrs. Then rain. Cool. Clearing overnight (in case the sun decides to come back). We spent the day shopping for a hot tub…at least with a heated spa, you extract some enjoyment out of cloudy days and clear nights. On Thursday, the day began overcast and rainy and, since it was a write-off anyways, we puttered about, entertained the children and gave guidance to the deck guy who worked on establishing footings in the dry sections of the yard. Then something remarkable happened. Shortly before noon, the sky exploding in yellow light, the clouds parted and an unfamiliar blue patch was revealed to us. We gathered in the yard, perplexed. The prognosticators had not predicted this. We were not prepared. The female members of the household quickly ran into the house and re-emerged dressed in their swim-gear and towels. Me and my boy rushed to the front to apply polish to our antique fire truck, the workmen made haste in
their work.
The next day, the last day of my holidays, there was a half-day of rain and the sun once again graced us with its glorious presence. Once more, we donned swim gear, basked in the sunshine and frolicked in the pool. Yet more carefree moments to wax the firetruck, take a ride in a kayak, listen quietly to the laughter of children. And for a time, Chaos had taken a break. I guess even Chaos needs a holiday once in a while…