My husband Eric and I recently returned from a long weekend up north, which was refreshing and fun.
We were up at Lake of the Woods fishing for sturgeon, which I’ll tell you more about in a couple days. We took Monday as a vaca-tion day, just to recover from our vacation. Sometimes you just have to do that.
Monday morning, we slept in, watched the teenager leave for school, then started to unpack. We had returned home quite late the night before, and after a long drive had no ambition to sort laundry and tote luggage. We had decided Monday was going to be our day of blah — laziness and doing nothing were pretty appealing after a few days of long drives and early mornings.
I had planned to sort laundry and maybe watch a movie, but the beautiful weather sucked me right outside where Eric was slowly putting away fishing equipment. We were both still on amble mode, so neither of us was moving with any great speed. We wandered out to the backyard, marveling at the nice day.
“We should go fishing,” I commented as a joke.
“Well, I should get the boat cleaned up,” he replied.
This sounded way too ambitious to me. After all, we were supposed to be doing nothing. But once Eric had it in his head to get his boat ready for the season, he was determined to do so. I stood by and watched as he pulled out the shop vacuum and went to work. Then the Fury caught my eye.
We have a 1968 Fury III — not exactly a show car, but pretty cool. The interior is a bit of a mess. Our son Matt had asked Eric to be the official driver for prom for Matt and his girlfriend Rachel, so there was serious cleaning that needed to be done.
While Eric vacuumed the boat, I started cleaning out the Fury. What remained of a beat-up headliner had to be removed so Rachel won’t get covered with 40-year-old dust and mysterious car fluff while dressed in her prom finery. By the time I got done doing that, Eric was done with the vacuum, so I went to work sucking up the mess I had just created.
Interestingly enough, I was vacuuming the front seat and found, way back in the crease, a 1967 dime. It puzzled me for a moment until I remembered that cars are sometimes dated in advance. For instance, vehicle manufacturers released a bunch of 2010 models in 2009.
Anyway, I dug up some hundred-year-old car interior cleaner from the bowels of the garage and started polishing things up inside. By the time I was done, it was noon. We headed to Slayton to pick up a few things and have lunch. While we were eating, I mentioned we should grab some car soap so I could give Fury a bath. Eric agreed.
Now, I have to tell you, a 1968 Fury III is roughly the size of an aircraft carrier. Washing the dirty beast, which had sat out in the backyard all winter, took quite a while. She was a dirty girl. After I was done, Eric and I admired the old girl for a moment, then he decided we needed to wash the exterior of the boat. By the time he was done, it was going on 3 p.m.
As I sat on the back steps and soaked in sunshine, I realized we hadn’t done a very good job at being lazy, so we should probably spend the rest of the day being bums. Just then our pagers went off (Eric and I are both members of Avoca Fire and Rescue).
So off we went to battle a fire. Well, he and a couple of other members battled. I sat by the rescue rig and kept an eye on the pumper truck. I’m not certified as a firefighter, just as a first responder. The fire was in a grove in the middle of a cornfield, so the grass rig was taken out to the fire while the pumper stayed on the side of the road with the rescue vehicle.
We got back to the hall a while later, then decided to cool off by taking the Fury for its first cruise of the year. By the time we got back from our short cruise, the day was gone and it was time to start supper, but then a few friends came by. We all stood around in the garage chatting. Pretty soon it was 9 p.m. I ended up making quick sandwiches for supper instead of broiling steaks on the grill as we had planned. Then we had to head to bed so we could get up and get back into the work groove.
So here I am, back in the groove and wishing I was still sitting in a boat on Lake of the Woods, staring at Canada and listening to the jokes and laughter of the people fishing around us instead of reading criminal complaints and playing catch-up.I guess we’ll have to try for lazy and blah next weekend.
Oh wait, I still have to wax the Fury.