And the deck was good.
These two truths were certainly not lost on me, and yet, there is a vast difference between having a deck, and having people on your deck.
Last night we hosted a small family gathering in celebration of my birthday. All day I’d been praying that the clouds would get tired of spitting haphazardly at me and my deck by the time our guests arrived, and let’s just say that Nashville clouds know what’s good for them. At six o’clock, our guests filed into the house and out to the deck, where they distributed themselves onto the patio furniture as if it had been there all their lives.
I found myself looking around in disbelief:
OH MY GOD. IT WORKS! THE DECK WORKS!
Do not ask me what I was expecting.
Perhaps a telegram stating that more laboratory testing of the deck was needed to make sure it was capable of handling a good time? Perhaps I was afraid that the house, like a body with a transplanted limb, would suddenly spike a fever and reject the new deck? I have no idea. But before last night, I don’t think I really believed in the deck. And now I know it’s true.
And then there was the issue of furniture.
For the better part of the last six weeks, I’d been stalking Craigslist in feverish pursuit of the perfect patio furniture. Then yesterday not two hours before our guests were scheduled to arrive, God swung by the house with my birthday present (he was in the neighborhood), and I clicked on Craigslist one last time to discover an eight-piece patio set for $100.
I got so excited I e-mailed the seller three times in five minutes.
IS THIS SET AVAILABLE?
AM VERY INTERESTED IN BUYING SET. CAN PICK IT UP THIS AFTERNOON.
WHY ARE YOU HIDING THIS PATIO SET FROM ME? I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN, BITCH.
I think she liked my style. And not only that, she lived just two streets away.
Fifteen minutes later, I was taking home a table, four chairs, an umbrella, and a chaise lounge, in good condition, all for a hundred dollars.
Plus, I don’t know if I mentioned this, but the set was only a hundred dollars.
(Something happens to me when I find a bargain. I’m like a greeter at Wal-Mart who has no purpose in life other than to say Hello! Welcome! The furniture you’re about to sit on was purchased by me for $100!)