An Eclectic Weekend

"I have two tickets to the Giants game tonight. They're good seats. Can you use them?" Thus began my Friday. The tickets are corporate tickets , owned by one of our sister companies, bought in their name back when the ballpark at Candlestick Point was new and the company was family-owned.

The timing was close to perfect. DS#2, the only child who would be excited about going, was coming home for the night from Boy Scout camp. His birthday was the day before. Hubs had been bugging me about going to game.

But DS#2 was coming home because he was leaving the next morning for his troop's 50-miler. Would be home in time to wash, pack, go to the game, and get up the next morning?

After some debate over the cell phone, the answer was, "Yes!" Although, ever the gentleman, DS#2 said, "I don't have to go. You and Dad can."

After giving them detailed directions on how to get to the ballpark on BART, complete with maps and telling them to bring water, buy sandwiches for dinner, and park at the Orinda station because there's no direct service to our area after 7:00 p.m., off they went.

"How was it?" I asked, as we had midnight cake and ice cream.

"It was such an awesome game!" DS#2 said. (It was, too. I watched it on TV.) And it was a perfect night for it--the fog chill didn't come in until the game was nearly over.

I also had to tell him, earlier in the day, that Mr. Caurant didn't make it.

"Was his favorite color really orange?" I asked.

"Yes," DS#2 answered. "And he'd wear these crazy socks. The only time I beat him was when I work my green-and-red Scout socks over another weird pair."

The next day, he left for his hike. Hubs, DD#2, and I went to the Memorial Mass. I felt like I was at a Giant's game, there was so much black and orange. Hugged a lot of people. Cried. Shared memories. Thanked his parents for their gift of Mr. C. to my children.

DD#2 sat next to us with friends. She was subdued and wouldn't go into her old classroom until nearly the end. Mr. C had resigned (we found out) the Thursday before his accident and had probably started cleaning out his classroom then. The desks are all different. But the kids are all different. They haven't quite realized it.

Each year every class makes a special quilt for the school auction.

"Mrs. T. came up to me and said, 'I'm thinking orange.'," said the 8th Grade teacher.

"With bicycles," I added. Her eyes gleamed.

After the reception, I had a Board meeting for the Ina Coolbrith Circle. They knew I was going to be late. The hostess offered wine. I took a glass.

Hubs left Sunday. He had been hoping to make the 50-miler, but his back and his knee slowed him down. So he's the support vehicle, planning on meeting the troop along the way. His parents live in the area, so he'll visit them. And, he'll get some fishing in as well.

This means, of course, that I control the remote and I can select whatever chick flicks I want to watch.

"Mom, we've got to get the house ready for my party!" the soon-to-be-13-y.o. said. She wants to swim at the local pool, then have everyone sleep over. We have two weeks to get the house company-ready. It will take that long.

But, before that, we had a meeting with the girls who are going to Sakai. We are currently practicing cooking, as in You Don't Scramble Pancakes. But you can make scrambled eggs in a plastic baggie (put the egg in the baggie, add extras, moosh it around, seal it, stick the baggie in a pot of boiling water for a couple of minutes, open and eat).

"You know, they don't use stoves in Japan. They cook over an open fire or charcoal," said the other leader. "We're going to need to practice that."

Yes, we are. Add it to the list of stuff we have to do over the next 12-months.

I'm almost looking forward to going to the office!