The reason I hadn't contacted him sooner, was the fact that I had been otherwise occupied; entangled, if you will, with my own island. Here in our on-going kitchen remodeling project, it's always been about finding more storage space. Even tho', with all the new cupboards, a lot of them going empty what with our 'everything to da road' policy, we felt that we still needed a kitchen island. We had a couple of electricians put up pendant lights and what we call a small "Hagar the Horrible" pot rack dangling between them above the area where the island would float.
I looked everywhere for the right sized island and finally found one online, which was made in upstate New York in the Catskill Mountains. Oh how refreshing...made in the USA! We had only just purchased a couple of counter/bar stools and I had hauled out my toolbox, and put on my tired, worn out John Wayne personna again. The first chair 'only' took me about two hours to assemble. The second one, the next day...I needed a rest, go figger...but once I started, I breezed through it; had it put together in about a half an hour. Thus, I was pretty cocky when the 'island' arrived in two 75 lb. boxes. It took me two full days, of sweating and swearing like a sailor, tearing the thing apart and using my own know-how and corner braces...even my own screws in some cases. Maniacs. Maniacs designed the 'put together' of this thing. I don't care if it was made in the good ol' US of A...the printed page had to have been made in China. Directions, Kirections...Big Fat Ol' Shmirections!!! I staged a one-woman "insirection" and put it together the way I wanted it put together. Every Single Step of the Way fought me tooth and nail. I tried to stay calm, taking a few breaks. I went out on the patio to sit in the heat to cool off and noticed this beautiful lily (see above)blooming that I had bought about seven years ago. It had been moved around the yard several times, but had never bloomed. Cappy dug it up out of the grape arbor and stuck it in this pot, with no soil, thinking that maybe the final place to plant it was in the garbage can, but lo and behold! Aint she a beauty!?!
And... refreshed, back into the house I went. Right away it thought it had me pinned in the corner. I refused to give up. By the time I got this miserable, son offa "Bastion fastening system" island assembled late that night, I was panting, every muscle in my body complaining, I was dirty, and dripping in sweat. I just stood there looking at it and had a sudden impulse to just take a hammer to it, but I didn't. I see that it's already got a "distressed look" to it in a few places from one or two skirmishes that ensued in the brawl to get it completed. But then, so do I; I'm sporting a bandaid, and my nerves are shot. I don't care if I ever look a screwdriver in the face again, manual or powertool. So, intead of a hammer, I took a knife to it. I chonked a big ol' juicy pinapple on top of it and went to work sawing on it. In this case, revenge is truly sweet.