News Flash! Scott’s glasses have gone AWOL. If you see them wandering aimlessly, kindly return them to us ASAP.
Archive for the 'Scott' Category
Here’s an amazing fact. I have been married to My Hero for 22 years, and I just learned that he’s never been able to move his toes inside his tennis shoes. Can you believe it?!?!
It turns out that all these years, he’s been wearing shoes that are too small for him. Ever since I’ve known his, he’s worn a size ten, but in recent months he’s been having a lot of trouble with one of his heels, and the physical therapist recommended a certain type of shoe. When he went to buy the shoes, the salesperson sized him at eleven and half – the same size boats that cover the toes of Jo! Scott eventually talked his way down to an eleven, but he came home shaking his head in unbelief and saying, “I’ve never been able to move my toes inside my shoes before!”
My toes can’t imagine being that cramped for 22 years. I’m so glad his are finally free. = )
So Scott set about to definitively diagnose the source of the attic toilet leak. He is by nature an excellent problem solver, and he was soon able to determine that the leak was caused by the toilet having two screws loose. He tightened the screws and voila: no leak!
While up in the attic bathroom, he also gave Andrew a crash course on how a toilet works and why. At first Andrew wasn’t all that interested in the lesson, but there was a whole lotta’ flushing going on, and he did learn it well enough to explain it all to me. Ah! Homeschool hours. Let’s see. Maybe that would fall under “General Science.”
A bit later in the evening, a damp and well-showered, towel-enshrouded Andrew trotted out of the boys’ bathroom. He does that all that time, but something was different – or, to be exact, sounded different. It took me a minute to realize that . . . the shower was still on! Just as I was about to holler at Andrew, “SON! Shut the shower off when you’re done with it,” Andrew called for Josiah to come help him.
I was in the office at my desk, which places my ears only 30 inches from the back wall of the boys’ shower. I overheard Andrew telling Josiah he couldn’t turn the shower off. Then I heard Josiah deep sigh, mumble, and mutter. Next I heard Josiah thump down the stairs to find Scott. With three males now working on the problem, I decided my wisest course of action would be to stay out of the way and say nothing, which I did.
A few minutes later, I heard the shower stop running, so I assumed all was well.
BUT, shortly thereafter, a pajama-clad and somewhat disgruntled-looking Jessica emerged from her room to comment (to no one in particular) that, “I think they really should give you some warning before they turn off the water.”
Me: What do you mean?
Jessica: Well, I went to turn on the water in my bathroom, and there’s no water.
(Enter the Handy Husbandman.)
Me (to HH): Did you shut off the water? All the water to the house?!?
HH: I had to shut off the hot water because there’s something wrong with the boys’ shower and the only way to turn it off is to shut off the water. So no, Jessica, you don’t have any hot water in your bathroom tonight, but the cold should work fine.
Okay, whatever. We’d have Josiah take his morning shower in the attic – (where he could also use the toilet if he so desired, thanks to the HH).
Today after church, we had a wonderful lunch of steak fajitas, quesadillas, cheese dip and chips, and rice (with carrot cake for dessert) at the home of the D family in Battlefield. After we ate, we stayed and played games and ended up not leaving till (gasp!) 5:00 PM. On the way home, Scott asked to stop at Home Depot to get a washer. He had disassembled the shower faucet for the hot side and found that the boys had been turning the hot off so forcefully that the washer had cracked. Once home, he replaced the offending washer, instructed the boys to be kindler and gentler to their aging plumbing fixtures, and all was well.
That’s two significnat leaks repaired in less than 24 hours, and I’ll let our readers in on a secret: Mr. HH is also in the process of repairing the broken doors of TWO kitchen cabinets. They are resting comfortably in clamps in the playroom as I type.
Handy Husbandman, your skills and willingness are greatly appreciated!
With the water so high yesterday (Sunday), Scott could not resist the urge to canoe. With some coaxing, Josiah was persuaded to accompany him, and 5/6 of us headed out in two vehicles. Katie was watching the Cardinals game.
It was like this. We canoe Bull Creek a lot, because at three to six miles away, the put-ins are very convenient. The take-out is even more so; it’s basically right at our house, and you can’t beat that. However, there are numerous other float streams in the area, some of which are ONLY navigable during a flood.
Swan Creek is not exactly in that category. It empties into Bull Shoals Lake at Forsyth, and the lowest part of it is probably floatable most of the time. We just don’t go there much because it’s ten or twelve miles from the house, and I guess we’re lazy. With the flood raging, however, Scott wanted to hit Swan Creek. He did a bit of research and found that there was a put-in at Dickens Road, some eight miles up from the mouth. Then there was a take-out about three miles up from the mouth at road that was not labeled on our map, but which we assumed was Casey Road.
We had had a couple meetings to attend right after church, so by the time we got home, got the guys packed and headed out, it was 4:00 PM. But the water would be fast and a five-mile float should be about right, in order to be off the water well before dark.
The canoe was loaded onto the van, which Scott drove, with me as an observer (photo shoot opportunity, you know) and Josiah as his canoeing compatriot. Jessica drove the 95 Toyota, with Andrew along for the heck of it. We had to have two cars because we planned to all drive up to the Dickens Road put-in and drop off Scott, Josiah, and the canoe. Then I would drive the van, with Jessica following in the Toyota, down to the take-out point. We’d lock the van and leave it there for the guys, and we three would go on home in the Toyota. Scott tied a van key inside his swimsuit.
So we headed to Forsyth and turned down Casey Road only to find (well, I already knew and told Scott, but living in the Show-Me state, we looked anyway) that Casey Road is under construction and “closed to local traffic.” Figuring that Walnut Shade is local to Forsyth, we drove past the sign (Jessica following) and continued cautiously on gravel till we came to some good old boys who looked like construction workers. I’m not sure why they would have been there on a Sunday afternoon right after the biggest flood in fifteen years, but we asked one guy if Casey Road went down to Swan Creek.
“I have no idea,” was his offhand, but polite response.
We tooled a bit further down the road and passed a man walking. He had on a dirty T-shirt, his hair was stringy, and most of his teeth were missing. The remaining ones were mounted sideways, yellow, and rotting. I rolled down my window.
“Hey, does this road go down to Swan Creek?”
“Try no bridge,” he hollered back.
“Try no bridge?” I was confused. If there’s no bridge how do you try it? We need to park the van near the water, but surely not on a bridge. And if we’re taking a canoe out of the water, why would we need a bridge anyway? Canoes generally run on water, not bridges.
“TRY NO BRIDGE, I SAID! Why do you think there was a sign back there saying Casey Road detour?!?!?”
“Oh. Well, thanks.”
We inched a little further along and the road literally ended. Well, so much for being able to take the canoe out at the Casey Road bridge.
I asked Scott about the man’s odd response, “try no bridge.”
“He was insulting you, and you were too naive to realize it!” Well, I guess that’s nice.
We turned around and tried to explain to Jessica what was going on, then we went back out to the highway and went on down to Shadow Rock park, which is where Swan Creek runs into Bull Shoals Lake. What I saw there was totally astounding.
Shadow Rock is a big park, with camping areas, a playground, a ball field, a concession stand, several pavilions, etc. It was all under water. The only things visible were the tops of some electric light poles and the roofs of the pavilions. The light poles only stuck up maybe six feet out of the water, and the supports for the pavilions were completely hidden.
There’s an old bridge across the mouth of Swan Creek that Scott and the kids jumped off several years ago. It runs right next to the new bridge; or, more accurately, the new bridge runs next to it. I guess Highway 160 initially went across that old bridge.
Anyway, the under-support arch of the old bridge (which is where they jumped from) is about 25 feet above the water, the deck (road surface) is probably ten feet above that, and the concrete “rail” along the sidewalk of the bridge is at least three feet above that.
If we hadn’t already known that that the old bridge existed, we would have had to assume that the existing (new) bridge was the only bridge over Swan Creek. There was absolutely no sign of ANYTHING related to the old bridge. That entire huge structure was under water.
We drove across Swan Creek (on the newer, higher 160 bridge) and began looking for a take-out point where we could leave the van. We turned down the road that runs along the creek, and were stopped cold in fifty feet. The road went straight down into the water. Hmmm… ?
There was a restaurant on the corner there that goes in out out of business with some regularity, and on its porch sat a man in a rocker. We asked if he lived around here and turns out he did.
Scott asked if he knew where we could put it and take out to float the creek.
“Well,” he said, “Most of ‘em been parkin’ and takin’ out right here.”
“But where do they put in?”
“Oh, you’ve got to go up around through Taneyville and take a road off the left called Dickens”
We knew about Dickens Road.
“Okay,” said Scott. “Can we put in there?”
“Cain’t get there now. Road’s under water both sides of the bridge.”
“Hmmm. . . well right here it just looks like a lake. How far upstream do you think this is backed up?”
The man paused and thought a moment.
“I’d say near about three mile.”
“Three miles!!!! So you mean even after we floated the creek, we’d have to paddle across a lake for three MILES just to get back here.”
“That’s right. That’s what most of ‘em been doin’.”
Well, I can tell you that Scott is not “most of ‘em,” and he was not ABOUT to paddle any three miles on a lake! Especially into the wind. So we left Forsyth and headed home, but instead of good old Bull Creek, Scott wanted to try Bear.
Bear Creek starts in western Taney County, crosses under Highway 65 a couple miles north of 160, crosses under 160 less than a mile from our house, runs behind the cemetery, and flows into Bull Creek just below our house. Even a fairly heavy rain is not normally enough to make Bear Creek floatable. It takes a flood, and this we had.
We drove up Bear Creek Road a couple of miles and put them in at the very lovely low water crossing at Reno Springs Road – a dirt road that is crying out to be investigated by my camera. Another day (sigh).
The water on the upstream side of the bridge was exactly level with the concrete pad, and there was about an inch flowing over it. However, on the downstream side, there was a HUGE drop-down and the “waves” were several feet high. It was raging. Scott wanted to run that part, but Josiah wanted to walk the canoe down past that, which they did. And they were off.
We headed home. There was no need to leave a vehicle anywhere, because they’d just get out behind the barn across the road and walk home. In fact, Scott said that if Andrew wanted to, he and Josiah could switch out at the house, and he (Scott) would float with Andrew on down to Bull Creek Village (where F Highway crosses Bull Creek; Bull Creek Village having been half flooded the day before).
As Jessica and I drove our two vehicles back down Bear Creek Road, we could see the creek through the trees from time to time. Just a quarter mile downstream, we saw color through the trees; the T-shirts of our men. They were standing in water near the bank, hanging onto the canoe. What had happened? It seems that Scott had jumped out of the canoe to keep it from tipping, and it tipped and filled with water. They were dragging it to the shore to dump it. Males consider this fun. They urged us to stop on the creek road bridge up (downstream) ahead just a bit and get pictures of them at the bridge.
This was a good idea. Being the resident canoe transporter and photographer, all my shots of canoers are usually of their backs as they head off down the stream. The bridge was great because it let me get a couple shots of them from the front. Canoers with faces – what a concept.
So home we went, and I cooked supper, and at 6:15 PM, Scott showed up across the road. The boys switched out, and Scott and Andrew left about 6:30 PM to head to Bull Creek Village. I calculated that it would take them about 1.25 hours to get there, so I planned to drop Josiah (to help Scott lift the canoe) and the van there at 7:30 PM. However, at 7:00 PM, the phone rang, and Jessica hollered to me that they were ready to be picked up. It turns out that they did that whole run in about 20 minutes! Then they walked to a house to use a phone.
There were evidently some pretty scary moments, and I’m very glad I required Andrew to wear a life jacket. They didn’t actually tip, but they bounced a lot, with the front end up in the air several times. The waves came over the front almost up to Andrew’s head!
Scott also had a really tough time beaching the canoe at Bull Creek Village. The current there was tremendous, and there was a tree sticking out into the creek that he had to negotiate as he tried to get to the shore. He overshot the mark and ended up having to walk/push the canoe back UPSTREAM a ways – with Andrew in the canoe and the raging water pit-deep on Scott – but they made it. Scott has a couple parallel cut on an amply bruised shin to show for it, and his right hand is kind of achy, but all is well.
Suffice it to say that the guys made a memory (Scott’s goal), we will always remember the day they floated Bear Creek in a flood, and survey says they had a rousing good time while doing it.
Today My Hero and I had a disagreement. That, in and of itself, was not such an unusual event. (Note that this post is not tagged “unusual happenings.”) What was interesting, however, was the route he chose to take on the matter.
Our playroom has no heat or air, and in recent years, it has been more of a storage area than a playroom. You can find all kinds of things in there; board games, clothes for Andrew to grow into, various items we use once a year for our ministry banquet, canned good, a shop-vac, a ping pong table, snow boots for most of us, etc.
There are two screened windows in the playroom, and for many years, we generally kept them closed. Two years ago, Scott decided that if we left the windows open in the summer, it would not get so humid in there. He was concerned about mildew. That line of reasoning made no sense to me, so from time to time, I went in there and closed the windows. A few days later they would be open again, so I decided it was a battle not worth fighting.
Bear in mind that the windows were closed in there for nine years and all was well. When we left them open for two summers, he said things were mildew-ing. Maybe it’s global warming.
Anyway, today we all pitched in and did a massive playroom clean up. That was fun and brought out all the differences between us. The girls were a bit concerned because they said we were “getting a little testy with each other.” Yes. So after we got it all cleaned up, on the first of September, when the temps are getting cooler and we are heading into our dry (time to resume full-body lotioning for some of us) season, Scott said, “OK, I’m going into town to buy a dehumidifier.”
I was shocked. I figured A) it would cost a lot of money, B) we had removed to the attic (also not heated or cooled) most of the clothing items he was concerned about, and C) there’d be no need to run it till next May. However, I said, “OK. See you later.”
An hour later, he returned with a heavy, pricey item that removed a half gallon of water from the playroom atmosphere in 20 minutes. I am choosing to say nothing, because that is what a good wife should say, right?!?!? = )
