Notes - human half of 'Pouch-3'

         1301 hours. I just dropped in an update to yesterday's blog. I did not know you could do that. I was going to work on repacking bricks on the driveway in front of the Blake Williams house but didn't get very far before tired set in.

         You and Carol had a busy morning with Brennan. You both had half a ham, turkey and cheese sandwich for lunch. The rain has been fairly consistent all day.

         1659 hours. I slept for at least an hour. Brennan has taken a lot of focus today. We have taken nap turns.

         2159 hours. I have completed the first human half  (afternoon of second day) of Pouch 3. I have the marsupial half to do.

         Post what you have and call it a night. Tomorrow, I'll give you instructions for the marsupial side of the equation - same afternoon. They want to be done with this business concerning the plane. - Amorella

         I liked adding the sugar maple. Such large, tall and beautiful trees. When I was four, five and six we used to gather sap in late February I think or early March from Auntie and Uncle Doc's farm on Freeman Road north of Westerville in Delaware County. We used two large work-horses and a heavy wooden sleigh to gather and pick up the sap in large milk cans. Sometimes I was allowed to ride horseback. I think three or four adults did the actual labor. They had about fifty acres of rolling hills and woods.

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Diplomatic Pouch - 3

         Blake and Justin cleaned up the table from lunch to walk out the front door to see examples of the unstable bricks that need replacing in the half oval sixty-foot driveway.

         Pointing, Pyl said, "Do you see how these bricks are out of place?"

         "What do you want me to do about it?"

         "Get them fixed."

         Justin interjected, "It's January, Pyl."

         "You have to take all the bricks up, put down a few inches of concrete then a layer of sand, then the bricks. I'll take a month. Not the right time of year, Pyl," Blake paused, "I like them as they are; it gives the drive a cobblestone effect."

         They turned leaving Pyl to her self-set yard-keeping duties. "How is the company, Blake?" asked Justin as they headed to the comfortable couch and high back chairs in the Bose media room. Once the smooth jazz was playing in the background and they were comfortably relaxed. Blake talked like the CEO of Communication Software Exchange.

         "You know Dad started in a small empty office space that had been a used book store downtown near Fenn College with an electrical and software engineer."

         Justin smiled, "Who would have thought Fenn Engineering would become Cleveland State."

         "Dad took some classes there in the early sixties but moved to Case. We've lived in this area for fifty years. Pyl and I grew up in the three-story off West Fairmount in Cleveland Heights."

         "Pyl asks me to drive by every time we come up. Beautiful home. I love that big screened in side porch."

         "Dad had it screened. It had from the twenties. He reconditioned the motors himself. We used it full time most of the summer. Anyway, in the late seventies he thought about getting into the radar detector business following the tenets of Cincinnati Microwave, but he stuck with the software business and built up the software communications exchange. People wanted to buy it for fifteen million. He didn't sell and made me promise not to sell for anything fewer than fifty million. It's still going strong but not worth more than twenty million at best. I'll get us a drink."

         Justin shook his head positive, "I'll take a Coke Zero," and sat chilling to a George Benson's guitar piece. Blake always says too much, he thought, except when he is in a business deal.

         Pyl strolled in from the back yard. "I love that big old sugar maple, beautiful orange leaves in the fall."

         "I'm thinking about getting it cut that down, it's getting too old, if it gets struck by lightning it could fall on the back of the house," said Blake too perfectly serious.

         Justin turned up a Walter Beasley sax rendition of "Do You Wanna Dance," as he sipped his Coke. He shook his head thinking Blake throws out the bait and Pyl always picks it up. It's no wonder we don't live this close.

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