The coffee table is clean--but where's Bill?

I finally "hit bottom" on the coffee table project. It took 3 days and much procrastinating, but here it is:

I should have taken a picture of the "before," but it was just too daunting (also, highly embarrassing). Note the sandals underneath still need to find a home.

This old, scarred coffee table has a lot of memories. It was given to us by Jim and Neva Hahns, who grew tired of its massive size and heavy weight, just about the time we moved into a big empty house when Bill started college. It seats 12 small children around the perimeter at a birthday party, holds four months worth of household clutter (as I have just witnessed), and provides a handy place to prop your feet while watching TV. It's also great for standing on to change lightbulbs. It is the one thing my children will fight over when I die. Since they live 2000 miles away, I say whomever is willing to pay the freight charge for shipping it, wins. It's a beast, and we all love it, just because of where it has been with us.

Now that the table is cleared (and cleaned and oiled!), where's Bill? He called last night, all set for his flight tomorrow. But this morning's email brought disappointment: George, the officer who is set to relieve Bill, did not appear. (I suspect he had an American Airlines flight?). So now Bill is scheduled to take the same flight, but on Monday instead of tomorrow.

This gives me more time to putter, and procrastinate even further. In the meantime, we are expecting a return to winter--real freezing weather over the next two days. All the veggies I planted will have to be brought inside, and I worry about the fruit trees down by the pond:

(Clockwise from upper left): Pear, Apple, and Black Cherry blossoms, all getting ready to be killed by the coming frost. If I were more ambitious, I could probably find some plastic to throw over the pear and apple trees, but the cherry is almost 30 ft. high, and I don't feel up to getting on a ladder in any case. I'm going to have to invoke the weather-gods and plead for 33 degrees or higher, instead of the dreaded 32. I may get cherry jam and apple pie and wine-poached pears this summer--or not. I'm just going to have to trust Nature to do whatever it is going to do.

So today, I will wash floors and vacuum, and try to keep my giddiness at bay until I know that he is on a plane for sure. Then there's the daily dog-walking to keep me occupied:

And there's the grocery shopping, the gas-getting, the beer-chilling. I can probably drag out the coming-home preparations for one more day...