Nothing much happens around here
Let’s see. August was sort of a quiet month, but there was a little bit going on. The month began nicely with a bone marrow biopsy. It seems your noble editor has a small problem with a low platelet count. This is, to quote my doctor, a semi-barbaric procedure. There’s a good story there. With luck I’ll write one of my charming, witty articles about it.
As my readers know, medical procedures in these parts involve travelling 50-200 miles. In this case it was a couple of days in Sioux Falls SD, 400 miles round trip. These little jaunts do double duty. Sioux Falls has a fairly good complement of box stores and we can some shopping done.
I should mention that they put me on predisone. One of the side effects is that you suck up fluid and gain weight. Fifteen pounds and what do you get. Fat Cheeks. They call me Fat Cheeks.
Home again to construction, where the new bathroom is being assembled. The electrician, the carpenter, and the plumber each appear in turn at their own space. Deborah insists that she wants to do the laying of the final tiles, including cutting them to fit. She did an excellent job in high style. The entire house is completely tiled, including all of the little odds and ends. Well done!
There was all sorts of packing up of things into boxes as they were moved to the storage facility. There was the removal of large quantities of brush, the trimming of hedges that hadn’t been trimmed for several years, that sort of thing.
In mid August it was off to Huron for another medical conference. We did a baseline for further treatment. The platelet count had gone up from it low point of 20 to a promising 57. (You need 142 to be in range.) Things are looking up. Arangements are made for weekly tests to see how things go.
Home again and the pace picks up. Construction completes, interior painting completes, exterior painting happens, brush disappears, an old shed disappears, more brush disappears, small trees disappear, as friends pitch in to help.
Bad news at Black Rock; platelet count drops back down to 40. A Rituxan course of treatment is scheduled.
Somewhere in here the great move is scheduled. A 53 foot long truck shows up with lots of Deb furniture. Large pieces of furniture come in the house. Somewhat smaller pieces of Richard furniture goes back to Deb’s house. Skilled movers labor for hours moving stuff back and forth. Women arrange and rearrange furniture. Richard stands around looking bemused.
Women spend large amounts of time placing large quanties of country kitsch around and about. Numerous solar lights convert the garden into a fairyland at night. Who are these women? Where did they come from? Richard no longer knows; it is all beyond him.
The 23rd arrives. People start streaming in from parts both far and near. Sisters say they are blown away by the changes to the house. Oddly enough, they are still there after having been blown away. Wednesday melts into Thursday melting into Friday. Meltdowns happen. Best man and family arrives in a rental car, having previous converted the engine of their old (very old) car into something resembling melted cheese.
Richard does some good deeds. For some reason not all of the invitations got delivered. Foul play at the post office is suspected. Richard calls everyone locally who hasn’t rsvp’d and checks whether they got their invite. He skillfully deruffles ruffled feathers.
Friday evening a large dinner party happens. Sundry friends and people from two families consume good food and various liquids. Sparkling conversations strike up all over the place. Richard participates but cannot recall what he said. Prospective daughter-in-law importunes him for a bit of his dessert.
Saturday, August 27 arrives. Richard knows that a wedding is happening – his wedding. The lawn has blossomed with tables, and people madly decorating them. Richard is told to stay out of the way. He does. He’s getting very good at it.
Eventually the magic moment arrives. The bridegroom is directed by the best man to the arch where the ceremony will take place. Then the bride is escorted by her son to the arch. Everything is beautiful, especially the bride. The ceremony proceeds. Richard and Deborah mostly look at each other and smile a lot. Eventually they exchange vows and are declared husband and wife. Party time!!
It’s a perfect evening – lots of good food, lots of good wine, lots of people chattering on into the night.
The next few days have many goodbyes and much dealing with the aftermath of cleaning up. Deborah and Richard are under the illusion that they will now have quiet time together. How did that work out?
As you can see, nothing much happens around here.
I will be posting a selection of wedding pictures in a few days. The guilty, the innocent, and hapless bystanders will be featured.
Harold Rinehart’s Funeral
Deborah’s father died on September 4th, eight days after the wedding. I have posted his obituary on my site. Harold Rinehart was a cattle man of the old school. His body was carried from the church to the cemetary by horse drawn wagon. The wagon was escorted by outriders – his grandsons on horseback.
And so it goes
Life at Chez Harter has been rather hectic between weddings and funerals.
Large numbers of people (the Rinehart’s are a prolific clan) have
gathered here. Perhaps now life will settle down a bit. In the mean
time there is still the medical front. There are more treatments and
more conferences ahead. Wish me well.
This page was last updated September 11, 2011.