Never underestimate the effect that a simple, innocent comment can have on another person.
Last week, while emailing back and forth with an off-site coworker regarding contracts and other fun stuff, we wished each other well for the weekend and I commented that I was long overdue for a glass of wine on my deck.
She replied that ever since her accident, she's not big fan of the deck.
"What accident?" I asked.
She returned: "Oh, that...it was in August 2005, I was having the deck flooring replaced, they opened a nest of carpenter ants, they were getting into the house so I went out on the deck and put my foot on one of the open beams, and fell through to the concrete patio below, 12-15ft, smashed into the french doors, dislocated my shoulder, did nerve damage and broke both arms, my nose and had a big cut over my right eye. My right arm was paralyzed.....I was out for 6 months, have some disability in my right arm still, but there are people who have it much worst that I do. I'm always in pain, and the arm still goes numb at times. I could be dead...so you see I'm still a bit afraid of the deck:)"
I think I'll just have some iced tea and sit on the grass.
In other news, Ian and I took the boys to Shea Stadium on Saturday to watch the Mets play the Dodgers, now under the guidance of former Yanks manager Joe Torre. I can say this about Shea: If you want to see the Yankees play, go to Yankee Stadium. If you want to see the Red Sox play, go to Fenway. But if you want to see a professional baseball game, go to Shea.
Like Yankee Stadium, Shea is in its last season. That was partly the impetus that drove us to the game. Still, I was so pleasantly surprised by the whole experience. The Mets are a great team with a long, storied history and a loyal fanbase. And it is affordable to see them play. We had excellent seats a few rows back from the field. The beer was actually good and cold, and the crowd was full of families and friendly people, including the pretty tanked guys behind us who bought us beer and fries and even gave Sean a new Mets hat.
I'll skip my tirade about parking at Shea, though. That's a blog for another day.
Our drive home through thunderstorms was entertaining, and the kids got to bed late--and woke up early Sunday, which was Nolan's actual birthday. What a spectacular, beautiful day. We spent the day playing outside in the sun, and that night we enjoyed a cookout with the kids' dad and Ian's family at my house. Nolan is 4. I cannot believe it.
As for the rest: The summer's pretty much here, with 90 degree temps and sunny skies forecasted for this weekend. Ian and I are still keeping our eye on the housing market, and in the process I've revisited some stats of my hometown--East Haven, or 'Staven as it's really known. Turns out Henry Winkler lived there when he was at Yale Drama School. The leather-jacket wearin', A-O talkin' Fonz lived in 'Staven. Why am I surprised?
There is something to be said for that town and everyone who lives in it. When an entire state looks down on you, you can't really fail anyone. There's some measure of security and comfort in that.