C hits one from the bunker on number 10. The ball ended up about six feet from the hole, if I remember right.

If you have not read my post from late Friday night, then this one will not mean much to you, and will contain spoilers.

After I made that post, my brother decided to leave Granddad a note explaining what we did.

Saturday morning, Granddad walked into the kitchen as I shoveled my first spoonful of Cheerios into my mouth.

“I really appreciate what you guys did. You know I never did anything about that because it’s just me here and it never bothered me enough to fix it. I grew up in a house without running water, so I never really learned how to do that kind of thing.”

It amazed me that an unflappably frugal man could live 90-plus years without engaging in any do-it-yourself plumbing. He has been in that house nearly 50 years. Just, mind-boggling.

My brother, in the guest bathroom inserting his contact lenses, overheard only a little of Granddad’s thanks, so I filled in the gaps. We both relaxed a little.

After Granddad showered under it? “That is really nice. Thank you two so much for replacing that showerhead.” He didn’t mention any problems with water on the floor.

After I showered under it without pointing it toward the wall opposite the shower door? It looked like somebody had poured a full glass of water on the floor. After a horrifying flashback to my first Showerhead Situation, I soaked up the spill and made a mental note to angle the spray the next time. Worked like a charm and I still had plenty of water everywhere I needed it.

That night, after the University of Arkansas – Fort Smith won the National Junior College Basketball Tournament Championship, we headed home to Granddad’s. As we pulled into the driveway, I noticed the kitchen light flickering like a scene out of Poltergeist. C and I went to the only place open after 10 p.m. that would have fluorescent tube bulbs — Wal-Mart. C removed and replaced the blinking bulbs when we got back, ending any chance that someone would try to open a disco.

Granddad again expressed gratitude at our initiative. Funny how people get motivated to help others, while their own projects go undone.

If a 90-something man offers to cook you a pork chop dinner, do not scoff, even under your breath to your brother (but that’s purely hypothetical). If he uses a rusty chisel and a ball peen hammer to cut the corn cobs in half, do not judge. It might turn out to be the best pork chop dinner you’ve had in years — the only one you can remember that did not require a knife.

If the same man gets misty-eyed when you hug him goodbye, and worries aloud that it might be the last time he sees you? Sorry, I got nothing.

Random Thoughts (and all the pics) from the Weekend

Have you ever seen prune juice spilled in a refrigerator? I did this weekend. Somehow Granddad had cross-threaded the lid, and it dripped unnoticed long enough to leak at least half the bottle. If this happens to you, and you’re very lucky, only some of it ends up on the shelves, and your onions (and/or other items in your crisper) get a prune juice bath. That way, you just pull out the drawers and empty them into the sink. I do not recommend using anything that’s been steeped in prune juice.

We golfed, and none of us played particularly well. Reality check for C and me? Granddad beat both of us on at least one hole, and beat me alone on more than that. Sure, he tees off from the senior tees, but it’s not much of an advantage considering his advanced age and the neck brace he wears while golfing.

At the basketball tournament, a local high school band marched onto the court and played, in full regalia.

When I left Sunday morning, I made that planned trip to Quivira National Wildlife Refuge. I saw at least 20 different species of ducks and duck-like birds. A floating flock of American White Pelicans relaxed barely within identification range, then flew right over my car as I drove the last stretch around the Big Marsh. My pics do not do them or the other neurotically skittish birds justice.

On the trip back, I took an unorthodox route. I saw a neat old movie theater and a Warbird Brewing Company van. I was very glad to be home. I missed my family.

A Northern Shoveler flies away.