So, how does one cap a day centered around a trip into the vaults at the Folger Shakespeare Library? Watching the Nats beat the Florida Marlins, of course.
While Evelin, Celeste, and M--- stayed home, my father-in-law and I headed out to RFK to see what seats were available for the game. Not wanting to spend $190 for seats right behind home plate, nor wanting to be up in the upper atmosphere, we opted for some decent seats on the mezzanine level above right field. It was much easier to judge where balls were flying than when S--- and I saw the Nats–Mets game back in April. It started off pretty slow, but the game turned out to be a pretty decent one.
On Sunday, we took a quick trip down to the Mall and the National Museum of American History to view the Whatever Happened to Polio? exhibit and to run through the bookstore there before R--- and M--- needed to head to the airport.
Afterwards, I spent a little time on the P³, shifting four wheelbarrow loads of dirt to a low spot in the upper yard, spreading, tamping, and seeding. As I have been digging, I've had a recurring fantasy of discovering one or more bodies buried in the dirt; the big hope is that a CSI team would then have to come and finish all the digging for me. No such luck, however; all I've found thus far is one old beer can, a few empty cigarette packs, and various other bits of trash/debris.
Today, however, I hit two bags of sand — sealed plastic bags of general-use sand. Maybe they were put there to help stabilize things during the original construction, or maybe they were accidentally buried and the guys decided to just leave them there. Just another instance of what were they thinking ...
The one really crazy thing that went on to today is that Celeste was back in her refuse-to-sleep mode. She woke really nicely at 6:00 a.m. (almost on the dot) and was tired by 8:30 a.m., but she refused to go to sleep, we tried to get her to sleep a few other times during the morning and hoped she'd pass out on the drive down to the Mall ... no such luck. She did nod off on the way home, but as soon as we were home she was up.
Tonight, after her bath, the real drama started; she did fall asleep while nursing, but was wide awake and crying after only 45 minutes. Celeste was almost panicking every time Evelin was out of eyeshot, and, while she would snug down into her blanket, she kept popping her head up to look around, intermixing goos and laughs with tears. Finally, Evelin got her down ... now the dread is how will she be overnight.
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I keep hoping I'll find a body when I dig things up, although I hadn't even considered the advantage of having the CSI folks do the rest of the digging; they'd dig the wrong stuff, anyway, I bet. I just hope that when I do find a body, it doesn't smell like the ex-mouse-thing the cat left for me in the back hall the other day.
When I was looking at houses, we rated them for body-hiding potential, both past and future, just to freak out the real estate agent. Instead, she got into the game, and would happily point out any places "where the body is stored" that we might have missed. The place I finally bought has no less than 4 potential places for bodies, one of which we still haven't explored (we call it the Nancy Drew Room, and it's walled off from the house but has a high, gabled window... oooOOOooo...).
Wait, there's a part of your house that haven't yet been into? And it's been how many years that you've lived there?
There was one house we looked at that had the perfect room for stashing bodies. Apparently the house had been built for coal heat or something. There was this really dirty room where the coal would be dumped in from outside and — just to add to the fun — there was a giant boulder that the foundation had been built around that spilled into the room.
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