The year started unexpectedly in JANUARY by gracing Chateau Haney with a large sewer backup. In the past, such issues were small and more of an advanced annoyance (like having the gas tank access in the middle of the dashboard, or hearing Black Sabbath as elevator music). This time, it was more like Paris Hilton coming to the house to discuss proper parenting techniques with Carrot Top. The primary cause was the drought in 2012 — the trees so thirsty that they resorted to drinking poop water to survive (somewhat like the folks at a Rams game). Scott has been demanding that Heidi remove clutter from the basement, causing her to suspect Scott of paying the tree for the effort. Scott denies this, despite the city forestry crew finding $1000 and a copy of PlayLarch under the tree when they cut it down shortly after.
FEBRUARY was relatively quiet, involving mainly taxes, weather spotter training, and the coldest damn high-altitude balloon launch Cameron and Scott have ever experienced. The grand plan was to use our awesome ham radio gear to track the balloon, but it was so cold, nearly all telemetry was lost 7.5 seconds after launch, causing the lads to move to the backup plan of going home and drinking cocoa. This proved to be the correct thing, as all other crews lost the balloon as well — it was recovered in Illinois several months later after a farmer ran it over with a tractor (or possibly a goat. Or Blagoyovich).
This led to MARCH roaring in like a lion, and roaring out like an entire pride leaping on you as if you were coated in bacon. The month began with Heidi being broadsided when someone ran a red light (which is easy at this intersection due to another light being less than half a block away). Heidi was largely uninjured, but the insurance company chose to declare the van totalled, causing us to have to replace it entirely. That same week, Scott’s work suddenly dried up after the customer pulled the plug on the program. He spent the rest of that week in Indiana, visiting his father for what turned out to be the last time. (He also got a coupon to buy the new van at employee cost, thanks to his sister who is ENTIRELY kinder to him than he deserves.)
More vehicular mayhem ensued in APRIL when the OTHER car nearly dropped the engine due to the engine mount frames rusting through. This was a $1600 repair job, which has pushed the amortized cost of maintaining the car into “new car payment” territory. It was also the car Scott had just driven to and from Indiana — that trip could have ended badly. He could have been stranded. Worse, he could have been forced to drive Darrel’s truck. Scott also rode his bike as a chase vehicle for a incredibly blustery marathon. We also had a number of band concerts and auditions (many on the same day. We’re stupid that way).
April showers bring May flowers, and apparently also weak trees. Half of the linden in the back yard fell during a storm, taking out the power line and doing some mild damage to the house. Fortunately, Chateau Haney is wired to use generator power when the line is down, and we managed for a couple of days until the tree was cleared and the line restored. Note: gasoline makes for incredibly expensive electricity. Tabitha performed on euphonium for the Iowa Bandmasters Association Middle School Honor Band, quite an honor and a nod to her talent and intolerance of flighty middle-school students.
JUNE busted out all over with the commencement of the Municipal Band season (which proved to be one of the best yet). We also had a large number of ham radio events, added a new deck to the house, many Girl Scout camp events, and saw the other half of the damn linden fall AWAY from the house, through a maple and onto a 34,000 volt power line, where it kept catching fire from arcing. It apparently couldn’t live without the first half, and killed itself in despair. The tree turned out to be hollow from top to bottom, but contained no cookie-baking elves.
JULY began with the death of Darrel, Scott’s father, on the 9th after three years of dealing with leukemia. Many obituaries say something rather like “after a brave battle with cancer,” but Scott hates that. There’s no battle. Cancer isn’t some mighty-thewed warrior that can be vanquished with pluck and resolve and luck. It’s a thief, sneaking in step-by-step in the night and stealing you away so slowly that you don’t even notice it at first, but wake one day to find you’re half gone. We refuse to grant leukemia the honor of a clean battle or an honorable death. Fuck you, cancer.
Our attitude was not improved by the unexpected death of Darrel’s brother 16 days later.
AUGUST was just as busy, but not nearly as stressful. We closed out the 2013 Municipal Band season by playing live to fireworks (not caused by a fire in the breaker box, unlike 2012), attending weddings, visiting colleges and state fairs, and starting the school year. There may have been a makeover session in there, but Team Testosterone escaped with their complexions intact. We also welcomed Tuxedo to the Chateau’s feline menagerie. And by “we” I mean “everyone but Dowager Cat Empress Molly, who clearly has little use for the interloping twit.
SEPTEMBER saw fit to teach us all how chaotic the schedule becomes during marching band season. This was also when Cameron’s school bag went missing (originally believed to be stolen, but merely misplaced for a month by what has to be the single most clueless sports coach in existence except possibly the moron who went for the field goal in the Alabama/Auburn game YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE SPANKY). Cameron was still able to take his ACTs, on which he scored so well that Congress asked him to fix the budget (but clearly didn’t listen to him).
OCTOBER was full of concerts, work, ham radio events, the end of the marching band season, sugared-up short dudes with little, plastic pumpkins, and a surprising lack of death, dismemberment, and dismay — unless we start talking about mid-term GRADES, a topic of some contention. The local ham radio community managed to score 147 points for emergency testing without actually doing anything special for it — the public service year ended in October with well over 2000 staff-hours dedicated to events, leaving us all too tired to care about a dedicated test. (Also eliminating the need for one quite nicely.)
We remembered, remembered the Fifth of NOVEMBERed (some of us with an actual fifth, if you know what we mean). The kids passed their finals for Fall term, and we enjoyed an excellent Thanksgiving with family, except for the part where Tabitha claimed that it would be good to have a chupacabra as a parent. (Unless you’re a goat.) Cameron also visited more college campuses, and has applied to three and been accepted at one (we expect the other two to happen Any Minute Now[tm]). We also ended up sinking more money into that spare car, which is now on the verge of being replaced. This is made easier by the fact that the kids still don’t want to drive due to nobody native to this town ever having learned how before getting a license.
DECEMBER, like Aunt Minnie, gave us many gifts we did not want and can’t return. Scott experienced the joy of a colonoscopy and the amnesia-inducing drug they give you, much to Heidi’s amusement. Heidi’s mother, Vicki, had surgery to remove a fairly small cancer and will likely need mild radiation or chemotherapy. Tuxedo proved herself to be the single stupidest feline ever ensconced at the Chateau by eating so many hair ties, bread closers, hairs, dead labor leaders, and insulation bits that she nearly died and required surgery to remove these things from her colon. We are considering renaming her Steve Austin due to the cost. This was all nicely offset by the fact that Cameron received (several months after being approved) his Eagle Scout award, making all of us very proud (except Tux, who was in surgery at the time, and Molly, who has little use for the interloping humans).
Nietzsche one said that anything that does not kill us makes us stronger. We should be able to bench press a Buick by now. But we’re all here, having fun, and looking forward to a better 2014.