As I type this, I’m still tired … from the annual Festival of Giving.
The yearly fundraiser party put on by the Foundation of the Children’s Treatment Centre of Chatham-Kent is always a blast. This year was no different, even though the theme and I didn’t get along.
It was a disco, Studio 54 theme. I hated disco when I was a teen. But thankfully I was about the only person in attendance Saturday who had such an attitude. Hundreds of people got into the sprit, dressing up in funky outfits and outrageous footwear.
Disco Nation, a Toronto-based theme band, entertained people early in the night, and the always awesome O’Hara Brothers Band took over for the latter part of the evening.
I have to admit, Disco Nation was incredible, nailing a ton of disco numbers from the late 1970s. The O’Hara guys are always at their best for festival, and sure do know how to keep the crowd revved up and the dance floor packed.
A year ago, I could hardly walk after the festival. It was less than a month prior to my hip surgery. This time around, it was much different, even though my wife had commented to me recently that she noticed me limping now and again.
But here’s the difference: Last year, I could barely get into the shuttle bus and up my steps at home, and I took it easy during the day. This time around, I did several hours of yard work, some grocery shopping and then went to the festival. And although my legs were a bit stiff Sunday, I was still upright and functional, even scoring a patio loveseat from my brother-in-law out in Mitchell’s Bay. Thanks, Tom!
Considering we had folks hanging out in our backyard before the festival, we took him up on his offer for additional outdoor seating.
One pylon, no lake
Our visitors Saturday noticed the big orange-and-black-striped pylon at the end of our driveway marking where Public Works folks had dug down to clean out the clog in our storm sewer.
We’ve got a little gravel around the drain, and the pylon beside it these days, but that is so much better than the big lake that developed after each rainstorm.
Hats off to the city workers. They take so much flak over every little pothole that they deserve a pat on the back for jobs well done.
I’m told the paving work will be done in May. Regardless, we haven’t had a lake out front since these guys stopped by.
They grow up fast
I guess I now qualify as a veteran dance dad, as Brenna’s been dancing for many a year now. I used to laugh at all that makeup she had to apply before going onstage. Now, it scares me.
When she took to the stage a couple of weeks ago, it dawned on me, “Wow, is she ever beautiful.”
As well, I will not be able to hang out on our front porch in a rocking chair with a double-barreled shotgun loaded with rock salt to greet potential suitors either.
First off, I don’t own such a gun, and secondly, such activity may be frowned upon these days.
But I’ve got a friend, Dave, who long ago volunteered to offer his support. He once told me to let boys know that, “I have a friend in the cement business.” And if that doesn’t work, I’m to say, “He has a .45 and a shovel.”
He does work in the cement business, and I know he has a shovel …
