With only weeks to go to complete the game, Geoff is at the dining table deciphering instructions and familiarizing himself with his Italian born Mig welder. Geek joy! Local fencing companies are too backed up to regard our pleas for them to build our county required pool barrier. It's devious, but what are the chances that Geoff actually planned it this way? 'Too late to hire help. Guess I'll have to get that welder' (I've always coveted.) He even thinks he has to convince me that he'll do a good job. I may suspect him of infiltrating new gadgets, but I could never accuse him of not putting them to good use. We will have, by far, the most superiorly constructed fence, west of the Prime Meridian. And what about the game? No worry; it will be 'killer.'
So, we are passing another happy family night together. Geoff counting parts and reading manuals. Max walking around him, in the protective mask, "Daddy, I'm a head!" William and Alex take turns doing Vader impersonations, then return to Laurel and Hardy shorts. Diego, the large kitten, is inspecting the boxes and sniffing curiously at the Mig. Outside, the new sprinklers are running their circuit, spraying softly in the evening breeze. The chickens are locked up for the night, the cats are all in. The boys are laughing heartily. I like this night.
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