Ooh. Lochlan put up the post last night, in the rain. It's a telescoping flagpole with a magnificently sharp edge in order to be able to drive it deep into the ground and it expands from three feet to twelve. It's got an eye hook at the top and a line in order to fly a flag but he always used to it to string up the tiny flickering bulbs from our camper door to the post and then to the back of the camper where he would attach them to the ladder so we would have a triangle of front yard on nice evenings.
Oh, how I love him.
I say flickering because they were finky. He ran them off an old car battery that he would charge while we drove, piggybacking on the trucks electric, hoping for the best. Those lights flickered like his dreams, he always said, and it made me sad.
We have power out by the camper now, but just for those lights. Actually for all the lights and if you need to run the lawn tools out by the fence, since I love corded lawnmowers (I don't but it's been at least 10000 days since I ran over a cord). PJ and Ben dropped a shielded cable all the way to the fence gates so that I would have lights going down the stairs and also for power to the boathouse but that was years ago.
When the grass dries Lochlan will spread out the three huge tapestries that we use as outdoor flooring. Yes, he still has them, though the camper is seven generations new, at least.
I really, really love this man.
I'm so excited. When I told him it was due to be the quietest summer ever he immediately made plans. A rotation of corn dogs, funnel cakes, cotton candy and caramel apples, lemonade and snow cones (we have a cotton candy machine and a snoopy sno-cone maker). The lights lining the house and grounds are not to be turned off from here on out, until Labour Day, and he said I can be chucked off the cliff at least twice a day for 'rides' as we still can't get a permit to add a Ferris Wheel or a Carousel to the backyard (because West Vancouver is a snobby bitch of a district to live in, okay and we're not going to talk about that) or he can push me reallllly high on the swing (which I actually don't like, can you believe it?) and we'll walk the slack line (but only with spotters because it's higher off the ground than I am tall) and we'll have our own all-summer-long fair.
Did I mention how cool he is? You don't have to do that, Locket.
He laughs. Let's be honest, Peanut. We do it anyway each year.
Yup, I love him so much it's positively gross.