Ice Cream and Swords

The Ice Cream Social last week went very well. We had a good team of volunteers in to help us; a couple of them mentioned having handyman skills as well as ice-cream-scooping skills, so we put them to work hanging a plaque in Cooie's honor. Overheard while they were thus engaged in that task: "Don't get it out of whack now. We want to keep it in whack if at all possible."
The miracle of the loaves and fishes got transmogrified into the miracle of the ice cream and bananas. Not only did we serve 259 bowls of banana splits and sundaes, but when everyone was absolutely done with as many helpings as they wished, we had maybe two cups left in the bottom of one tub of the donated Graeter's, so it was a perfect amount. Plus, I had gotten some emergency backup Kroger brand (with money donated by the volunteer team's company), so we have enough for another Ice Cream Social next week, if we so choose. I don't think we'll choose that, but at least we'll have a good snack option on the next hot day.
The office staff served the volunteers ice cream at the end of their shift, and so also served many second and third helpings for guests returning to the line. It was my first time working the serving line, I'm embarrassed to admit. If I'd known I was gonna be putting some time in there, I wouldn't have worn heels. A Val quote about the experience at the end of the day: "I think I have ice cream on the bottom of my shoe."
In other news, I'm moving out of the artsy-fartsy JesusFreakCrazyCommuneCultHouse. I'm just moving down the street though, so I'm not actually moving out of the artsy-fartsy JesusFreakCrazyCommuneCult. My new home is the first floor of a two-family flat. It's a shotgun house, and my bedroom will also be the front room. I was up late last night talking to Pants about it. I knew she could relate to any moving anxiety--we're both moving out at the same time. "I'm a little worried because I don't have a dresser yet," I told her, "And I don't want to start out at my new apartment just flinging all my clothes everywhere, like I do now."
"Well, here," she said, "You want to use this dresser? It belongs to the folks whose house you're moving into, anyway."
"That's perfect! It's tall, so I can use it as part of my 'bedroom wall.' I want to separate my bed off from the rest of the front room, and first I thought I'd use screens, but since I haven't been able to find any I was just gonna use bookcases and dressers."
"You want a screen?" She pulled a set of three wooden screens complete with louvres that she had hidden away in her closet.
It was like Princess Bride, you know? "Ah--if only we had a Holocaust Cloak!"
Speaking of swashbuckling--the last couple of weeks I've been introducing Izaac, one of the young'uns in the JFCCCHouse, to all my favorite old movies--Robin Hood, The Thief of Bagdad (with Douglas Fairbanks, Sr.), The Prisoner of Zenda (with Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.). I love Robin Hood for its lesson that you can do good things without being a goody-goody, and Izaac seemed to agree.
"Watching Robin Hood makes me wanna be Robin Hood!" he said at one point.
"Except without the swordfights," Zoe (his sister) interjected.
"No! The swordfights are the whole point!" Izaac and I said together.
And I introduced him to Zenda to teach him the lesson that, if you're gonna be a bad guy, at least be a charming bad guy. He seems to have learned that, too. He's been going around shouting "Au revoir, play-actor!" at every opportunity.