There just wasn’t a hell of a lot going on last week. For the most part, the best I could do was really just be a dad checking in. That was about all the energy I could muster. I doubt any complaints will be heard from Ellen and Reid. But from what went down these last few days, today’s letter (which you’ll read next week) will be a far different matter. There will be a return to events of some real gravity.
May 16, 2011
Ellen/Reid: I came into the office this morning and the people and their things are gone. Row upon row of cubes sit empty. The herding of staff occurred last Friday when a mass exodus was made to one of our spiffy new buildings where, if your entry pass doesn’t work, they can double check your retina scan to allow admittance. I opted not to go that direction, in part because of gas costs ($4.10/gallon) and it would add another 10 minutes to the walk from my open parking space. Instead, I chose what’s called the My Work program where I can work from home and spend two or three days a week in satellite space on the south edge of town. The bank buys a phone and printer, a shredder and a chair for my convenience that will go up in the three floor bedroom which is my new home office. If I needed to come uptown I could but I don’t know of any earthly reason why that should be so unless I wanted to see Betsy or my friends Tom and Mike. I have no co-workers in the downtown, and only one in the metro area so it’s not like my presence will be missed up this way.
Ellen, I hope the fine china made it in one piece. My box did not. It came, crushed, as if thrown off the UPS truck. The big red “Fragile” sticker must not have been noticed by the caring UPS handlers. To my dismay, literally everything inside was broken, most notably the glass lid to the roasting pan your grandmother got as a wedding gift in 1948. I was just crushed. Of all your grandparent’s possessions, it was one of two or three items that I really wanted. I thought the packing job was good, but the vases and other assorted stuff were in pieces. That’s why I need to know if the china is intact. If it is not, then I took out insurance on your box which, while it won’t nearly be enough to replace everything, will at least be some salve.
My health, knock on wood, has seemed to improve these last few weeks. No small maddening setbacks which make me second guess the operation (just a little). My next check up is in just over a month and that will be the real litmus test. That has in part contributed to my desire to work at home, which will be easier on me physically. This sitting in a chair for hours on end is for the birds and is one of the cautions they gave me at the doctor’s office. But I’m feeling one hell of a lot better as of this writing. Came through a 200+ mile ride with Felicia this weekend in good shape, too. If an old Harley doesn’t rattle your innards, nothing can. I need to start some serious cardio workouts to get ready for Wyoming which is now only two months away. I’m worried about that part of it and don’t want to drag the group down to my level. I’ve always said we will hike only as fast as the slowest person, and that may well be me. We head into the back country on Sunday, July 24. The trip still seems really exciting but there are a ton of loose ends to bring together, notably getting all the gear (the old MSR stove could not be found in DSM) together and packing all the food. That may wait until Jackson Hole. Reid, hopefully we won’t be sleeping in the car the night before the trip. Jeez, what a night that was.
Ellen, thanks for the photo of your barren kitchen. Nice job by Tim. There’s no turning back now, but you’ll finally have a kitchen you can really sink your teeth into and be proud of. In terms of recouping your money, it’s not a bad investment. I’d love to get up there sometime to see the end results. The one caution I’d give you is if they say the project will only take three weeks, double that estimate. Nothing ever seems to wrap up when they say it should wrap up. It’s going to be an endurance test of patience and dust, dust, dust, especially when that wall comes out.
Well guys, I have to go. Its ghost town up here right now, but they left the office coffee pot here, and I think I’ll go make me some.