Day 102: Sunday - Father's Day... Want something done right, do it yourself... I made pancakes for breakfast and then went back to bed and ate them there. With no great urgency to get up it was a late start to the day. So I head out to the garage and fire up the lathe. I have a scrap piece of wood because I have no idea what's going to happen, this thing hasn't run in 20 years. Now it's a little small for a baseball bat but I'm going with that... I can make a baseball bat for my son on father's day... The boy and Heather head out to the yard to play catch. Eventually Heather pops in the garage... "Why are you making a stick?" I explain it's not a stick it's a baseball bat... she would have been more happy if it was just a stick, she has visions of the boy hammering balls at her head and using it to beat on things that should aught to be beaten on... she leaves. Fifteen minutes later the boy comes into the garage and see what I am doing. He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face. "Dad, why are you making a stick?" - I't not a stick, it's a baseball bat. He held his ground because to him it looked like a stick. SO I made a Stick today and gave it the boy to wack things... first order of business was to climb on the trampoline with it and use it to smash beach balls out of the yard... ya, I can't see this ending well either. Next thing I make is a plate to mount blocks of wood to so I can make more safe things like salad bowls... Heather has been wanted some wooden bowls since I bought this 20 years ago. SOON! I brushed of the wood chips and went in for lunch. Heather had made up some buns for us to have samiches on... ham and swiss... and fat bombs for dessert... I think she made those last night in her sleep. Now well in the garage I spied the whipper snipper and pondered for a minute as to the location of the battery... now I had it a week ago... and I put it someplace... someplace safe that I would remember... it was in the... err.... ummm.... fuck... where the hell did I put that? If I had a fucking quarter for every time I put something some place safe and couldn't ever find it again... I could finance the government's economic bailout plan for the COVID19 Crisis. Pretty sure it wasn't in the garage or it would have been with the weed eater... it wasn't in the kitchen (a place I normally designate as a "some place safe" zone)... only other thing I was doing was cleaning up the basement... oh dear lord I hope it;s not down there (I'm a ways off holding a "Look I Got it Clean Party" down there)... it's still a work in progress. I start putting away tools, sweep up the floor, digging out the work bench... hey look a piece of maple... I pull the broken spatula out of my pocket I had been carrying around for days. Hey this looks like it will fit with a little trimming and sanding. I look at the pile of boxes on the table saw... well that's apparently the next project.... I clean off the saw... cut the maple a little larger so I can sand it to shape... You know while I'm down here I might as well change the belt on the sander... last handle I made like this took forever to sand because... well... there really wasn't much in the way of sand left on the paper... when the inside of the sandpaper belt says 80 but you can use it to polish thing with... it's not 80 anymore. So I go to change the belt, seems there is a pile of crap on that machine too. Man this is not really how I planned father's day going. I dig it out... last thing I move in the pile... the battery for the whipper snipper... hmmm... finish the handle or look for the battery charger... I had that in my hand in the kitchen when I started looking for the battery... I wonder if it is still there someplace save... Ya, I finish the handle. Fits perfect... and for the hole in the end of the handle to hang it by... drill press, another buried tool... I repeated the process that the table saw and sander went through. By this time dinner is approaching... I can barely move never mind walk... obviously did way too much today. I crawled into the bathroom and into the shower, turned it on and lied on the floor until most of the yucky was off. Crawled to the bedroom... into the bed... Heather and Lawson were making BBQed Steaks and grilled veggies, some shrooms... corn on the cob and little potatoes for Lawson with his steak... I manage to drag my ass and a bottle of wine to the table. All went well until desserts came and I didn't have room left for cheese cake... this diet is killing me... I pushed the cheese cake in my pie hole anyway, room or no room... because, duh, cheese cake. Back to the bedroom. So I called my dad, if you want that story you can call my dad too. But after that we pretty much vegged and black out in some kind of worked too much plus food coma thing. I'm not sure if Heather fell to sleep and was playing scrabble on her phone in her sleep and just dreaming stuff up to tell me about the game... or she may have actually been playing it... she was getting a lot of 70+ point words... pretty sure she was sleep gaming.