04-JUL-B-2
LAUNCH MEDICAL
TO DOMINICAN REPUB LIC AND
WITH TEAM OF GWU STUDENTS
THROUGH BRA AND PROJECT MEDISHARE
PICKING UP AND PACKING OUT
On the weekend preceding departure, I have been fixing up Derwood for my absence, showing it off to some interested people, and have run the Rockville Twilighter Race. I have packed up additional medical supplies out of the shed and carried some myself in the duffel bag I have packed, and also carried a couple of extra packs for whomever is open at the airport early Monday morning when I drive a load in before dropping my car in the parking structure and returning on Metro. I then mowed all the grass and picked up the myriad of twigs sawed off by the cicadas which completely festoon each tree with the brown clusters of dead ornaments.
That brought me to my first of several waves of weekend visitors. The nearest neighbor is named Schwinn, and as I was picking up the perpetual harvest of basketballs in the woods from missed field goals that the kids then are too lazy to retrieve, I saw the Schwinns trying to carry out some large furniture pieces from their van. I ran over and helped them carry the heavy china closet in, and told them I was about finishing up the same sort of activity myself. Stephanie and her husband said they would like to see it all before the Open House (the professional photographer is coming by August 4—a week before the plumber digs up the yard again) and I said it would never work if we made an appointment, so let’s go. They have two sons, Paul and Stephen who stayed back with the dog. I toured them through the house which was overwhelming to them, since they had no idea the size of the project nor had they been in the house originally, despite having been here since 1990. They had just had some stone work done in the back to make a patio, and they had been curious about the big cranes and tree removal operations, but had no idea about the size and scope of the renovation. They turned out to be fascinated with the Game Room and Stephanie, particularly wanted to hear the stories behind each of the big game trophies. I will email her the Byk Moral story later.
At the Rockville Twilighter, a race put on by the MCRRC which benefits the youth services through Rotary, I met Mike McKeeson, and his wife, trying to come back for her first race after the birth of their 16 month old daughter and the first race ever for his nephew, who was proud of his achievement which I congratulated. The first runner to cross the finish line triggers a barrage of fireworks, and after that it is a party till midnight, with food for the runners and a couple of beer trucks in the street as well as a band and a festive atmosphere. It is worth the show, even if it is always hot and humid and usually threatens and occasionally delivers rain on our parade. She was interested in the Derwood project in which Mike has taken great pride, so I suggested they come over to see it. Since the kids were tired by the time that the party ran down (and had also got exhausted playing in the large suds making machine) they postponed their visit until when I am gone, but Mike has the lockbox combination and can come by later. He had furnished me with the clear “corner protectors” to put on the Viking Exhaust hood, so that I will now get only bruises from collisions with it instead of consistent scalp lacerations. I had done this as a prophylactic measure, since I had seen the tornado of sloppy impulsive movements flying around the kitchen during creative frenzies, and could predict some major skull damage on the edges of the Viking, now a solved problem. There are only a couple of items left on the punch out list, which Mike will come in to resolve in my absence. But, the house from the contractor’s perspective is finished, now all I need to do is continue dealing with the plumbing and the interior design and re-furnishing.
I had invited Keith Carr and his
wife Kate to come to see Derwood. He had
come over in a snowy day just before Christmas when it was still in its
destruct phase, and he compared it with what he had seen in the fifteen years
before when he had come over with his toddlers (at that time) now college
grads, Bubba and his brother—the younger second family he has, who also enjoy
Cumberland Island a lot. He had
renovated a place in
PRE-DAWN DEPARTURE,
LAST MINUTE EMAIL RECEPTION AT GWUMC,
THEN SHUTTLING 17 OF US THROUGH DCA TO
MAKE THE TRANSIT NOW IN PROGRESS ON A/A TO
The last
time I was in flight to
Our flight
arrived with all but one of our 17 in the block I had purchased, and we filled
in one here who is Suzie Ziegler. Our
man Anthony is coming on the flight that will leave DCA at
We stopped
for dinner at a restaurant about an hour past San Cristobal—the furthest I had
ventured during the war in which I had arrived here first exactly forty years
ago, precisely twice the life span of our younger participants in this
trip. We drank the Presidente beer and
had a choice of grilled fish, goat or chicken, and then made phone contact with
the taxi driver carrying bewildered Anthony through the deep seaside mountain
ravines to get him to us. I elected to
get to our destination later but with “all hands on deck” so I waited an hour
more, which means we would arrive well passed
Arrival was
not just after