Tyche
Copyright© 2020 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 84
The kayak is sanded fair ... dusted ... wiped down with acetone and damp towels to raise the grain (wood hairs freed by sanding and water) ... sanded again with 1000 grit and painted with vinyl-ester resin ... sanded again and covered with handmade fiberglas curtains laid down in wet resin. It has the makings of being pretty.
We got the curtains at the Goodwill, Amvets, Austin Area ministries ... and several garage/yard sales. Just another reason why she’s not done. I had to find the curtains.
Things go better with Two. When she puts her mind to it ... Two is HELP! (Caps and exclamation point intended.)
“Okay,” she said. “Now can we go water skiing?”
“Two, I don’t know if you noticed or not ... but it’s 9:30 ... we missed lunch AND dinner ... and the sunset was a beaut.”
“9:30? Lunch? Dinner?” She clutched her abdomen ... it growled at her. “Tyche ... Feed Me!”
I said, “Surprise has the car ... it’s either my homemade or run ... or a bike ride.
Across the street from Mi Casita ... sorta ... is Pastor Taco ... it’s a homemade trailer ... with great smells ... and a few hundred yards west is Taqueria Michoacan, a food trailer by a convenience store.
Okay Okay Okay ... it’s a mile farther west ... and it’s the bomb ... green salsa to die for ... and the tacos? Buck fifty and that’s with everything on it. This is NOT your lettuce and beans taco ... this baby is dressed. Only food trailer with a 4.9 approval rating between Bud Field and the University.
“I’ve had your cooking,” she said. She took off running.
I’m wearing steel toed safety shoes ... Two is in open toed sandals ... Two NEVER drops anything on her feet.
I’m not saying she doesn’t drop things ... she does. Her feet are never in the way. My safety shoes are boots ... and I’m still breaking them in. No way will I keep up. I tried.
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