Workin' And Playin'

It's been freezing here. We've had to drag in all of our most beloved plants and spend our lounging time in long-johns and multilayered discomfort. One of the main things I hate about winter is having to wear multiple shirts. Oh the one on the bottom always twists around and bunches up and you can't get it flat again without bunching up the other ones and then the sleeves don't line up, and who knows what else will go wrong. Boy I hate that.

Mops and I had to set up a wedding in harsh icy winds and then the roads froze over so Brett and I didn't have to go back to clean up at midnight like we usually do. Instead it had to be done at 8am. Brett was not planning to help with this particular teardown because it was daylight and there was no cause to worry. Sweet Bubba Brett never sends me off to a teardown in the middle of the night to teardown next to a bunch of muscle-laden hourly laborers, without him there as my backup. Brett has never missed a teardown so I was happy to let him sit this one out... until I slipped on the ice covered porch steps and then I got too nervous.

"Bubba?" I asked softly from the threshold of our bedroom. He was all toasty in bed, enjoying the luxury of a Saturday morning sleep-in. 
"Mmm," he grunted.
"I'm too scared to drive over the bridge." Truth is, I was scared about the icy bridges but I was also suddenly worried about a number of aspects of tearing down such a wedding by myself. All the ladders and glass mixed with icy water made me nervous. I had to lean my ladder on some brick steps to hang some greens. Would that be especially dangerous now? No one would be around if I followed in Papa Don's misplaced footsteps.
"Mmm,"
"The ice. What if I go over the side of the bridge? I don't know how to drive in snow."
"Mmmmm,"
"I know, I know. It's not snowing. But if you come with me, I'll take you out for breakfast after." He got right up out of bed, put on this fleece-lined britches and still made me drive over the bridge, but with him in the passenger seat for mental safety. It was even colder and more rainy than I expected so I was extra glad for the extra hands. Also, he's so tall, we didn't even need the ladder. He just stood in a chair and used his Go Go Gadget arms.

That Eisenhauer is the real deal.

A few weekends ago, we got with Ellie and Caroline and had "Sports Day." We met at a park in West Ashely and we all brought along assorted sports balls. Mostly we played Pickle Ball. I'd never heard of such a silly sounding sport but it was lots of fun. We've all played this together a few times and so far, Ellie is undefeated. We contemplated soccer and tennis before we settled on basketball. I have never played basketball in any capacity other than shooting hoops in the driveway with Pops. I do not know the rules of the game nor do I have any concept of what one should be doing when not in possession of the ball. Ellie, Caroline, and I are all 5 feet, 6 inches tall. Brett is 6'4". Caroline and Brett played basketball as teens so really they were the only two playing, but Ellie and I pretend to help our teammates. I pushed Eisenhauer around, climbed on his back, swung my knees towards his nether-regions, but it was all for nothing. He still won.

For next month's issue of The Mercury, I've interviewed Ellie about her Etsy shop. That may not sound like a thrilling read but when people find out that she was able to quit her real job because of the popularity of her Etsy shop, people really become intrigued. I went over to interview her while she and Caroline painted their new accent wall. She chatted all nonchalantly about big success and when I came home and told Brett about it, he and I became frantic about coming up with some easy thing we could sell enough of to quit our jobs. It's very unlike both of us to get caught up in money making or, as Brett calls it "selling out." Neither of us are money-motivated over happiness-motivated. I chase free time. Brett prioritizes progress. We don't need heaps of money for those things - so we don't focus much on it. Suddenly we were overtaken by the possibilities money can provide. "Why am I busting my butt for beans!?" Brett declared. 

"Yeah!" I added for support.

"This takes up all of my time and for what? And if I mess up, people die!"

"Yeah!"

"We need our own Etsy shop!"

"Yeah!"

We stopped brainstorming to eat dinner and then we forgot all about our brief meltdown chasing fame and fortune. I'm noting this happenings for the entirely new sensation of it. I'm not a jealous person at all and Brett isn't easily thrown off track of his goals, which has never been buckets of money. We've never buckled on these things at the same time. We became an entirely different couple - two lost people. Two bitter little people claiming injustice. I didn't like it at all. After we ate and felt better, we realized that there isn't really anything we want to buy. Isn't that silly. And sure, I'm a little hung-up on having land or marsh-views (or both) someday but other than my "design minded" home, we can afford the things we want... because we're simple bumpkins. 

Speaking of which, Brett stuffed me into the car this afternoon and wouldn't tell me where we were going. This wasn't exciting like the mystery date because I could tell he had done something big without telling me first. We took my car, which was my first clue. He doesn't like to drive my car because it "smells" - this refers to the tiny leaves and flower petals that fall down into the cracks and dry out. My car has an earthy smell that I really like. So there. 

He cleared out the back of my car and put the seats down. Clue Two. We're picking up something large. He stopped by an ATM. Clue Three. He hasn't bought it yet which means we're meeting a strange person somewhere for some kind of illegal transaction. 

We got on the highway and headed north. We got off on Ashley Phosphate and I became nervous. Finally, we pulled into a self storage facility. "Ok seriously Brett, I don't have my phone. Should we go ahead and get the police on the way while you're in there? Does anyone know where we are right now? Need I remind you where Dexter did his best work?"

A skinny man with dark teeth pulled up next to us and then he and my precious husband disappeared into the storage place. I waited in the car with the doors locked, wishing Brett had left his phone with me. Just as I became worried about how long they'd been in there, they came out with a drum kit. 

Brett has purchased drums.