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Fliss had a great party, lots of weight to test the virtues of her backyard wooden deck. And, it held! She provided lots of yummies like chicken and pesto and others brought goodies – Charles with the Fry-daddy who cooked up squash, onion rings and even French fries. As darkness settled over the backyard talk and beer flowed enough for Charles and I to feel confident enough (with some soft urging from Helen) to play music – though we couldn’t remember half of the songs we’d practiced the night before. Ahh well, it was fun and we met new people and I drank more than I had in a long time. Very little activity took place outside the deck-which-is-still-standing. Didn’t get to talk to too many as I was playing a lot. I did also tried young M’s standing push-scooter which I got going fast enough to throw me to a two-point face plant in the front yard.

This weekend I also picked blackberries with Bailey in tow at the Amboy dog park – the area that’s the powerline. Tons I couldn’t get to but I picked only the best of what I could reach and still ended up with a couple pounds of sweetness to the point of getting that magenta (like pokeberries) all over my hands. Bailey waited patiently for me with only a bit of whining when I would trudge in areas she couldn’t go because of the stickerbushes. Big fat junebugs fed on the sweetest, plumpest blackberries and would be startled and and act guilty when I discovered their buzzy little butts.

Susan, Fliss, Helen and I took a brief break from the heat to do a little local tubing along the French Broad. This is nowhere near an extreme sport. It’s lazy and we liked it that way – plus, we’re all so familiar with that part of the river that it was almost boring – but in a good way. Susan needed a break from all her computer tutorials, Fliss from the threat of rats and the promise of new house finances, Helen and I from the heat and, well, just because. From Hominy to the Southern Waterways take-in spot isn’t exactly an adventure, but in a way it was just as much excitement as we wanted.

After that, we met Fliss at a house she’s considering for purchase. It’s a great house, simple and sweet on the outside and beautifully twisted and bizarre on the inside. Not unlike Fliss herself. And that’s what a house should be, right? An extension of how we either see ourselves or are seen by others. It has a garage with a shop-like place in the back and strange angled ramps and earth buildups, and if you go into the house from the front (which probably won’t be the norm somehow), you sweep into what appears to be a boring little suburban SFD with average to low ceilings. Notice to your left though there appears to be a shelving unit that is so thin as to resemble a wall with the plasterboard removed. It’s protecting you from falling down an impossibly narrow staircase which leads to a glass/screen door that – under normal circumstances – should be on the outside of the house. If you look on the outside of the door, a brass plaque announces “Your Family Name” or somesuch thing that indicates it’s a sample of some kind. A sample plaque? A sample door? Certainly not a sample staircase. There’s more quirky to this house that I’m terribly certain will be better described by Fliss herself and will link to her blog from here.

I was terribly impressed with the house and don’t want any pressure on her but will be quietly disappointed if she doesn’t get it. It’s so her!