No. 382: The Swing of Delight

 

Nicholas, Alexa and Sydnie Dorma, August 2018, by Tom Wills

Two years ago, or maybe it was three, a gaggle of neighbors and relatives moved a mountain from one curb to another. It is a gargantuan Rainbow playset -- fort, slides, sandbox, picnic table and swings -- for my grandson Anthony. This huge gift came from my neighbors Joe and Christine as their kids Sydnie, Alexa and Nicholas, had outgrown it.

These things are not cheap, but I felt cheap so I promised them a picture in exchange.
But a picture never got done, because apparently they never chose one. But recently a  nice shot of their kids popped up on Facebook as they commemorated going back to school this fall.  So I removed a few cousins from the photo and, voila!

The reason this is important to me is because I thought about that picture pledge every time Anthony played on Rainbow. And he plays on it a lot, year-round. It's the first thing he asks for and the most time-occupying activity he does when he's here. He says it's the best swing ever, because it is.

Getting it here took some ingenuity.
This was Rainbow's third move. It used to be right next door, but Joe and Chris sold that house and moved just right across the street.  Professionals who built the playset moved it then. Moving it back to my house -- a homecoming of sorts -- was a strictly amateur effort.

My engineer uncle helped finagle ways to take the set apart in sections, which we dragged and pulled (using Joe's pickup truck) across the curb and up the yard to my place, where we bolted it all back together and had pizza and beer.

In the last few years I have stained the playset, and chased out and filled bee holes,  fixed the roof and shored up the sandbox. It's sturdy and will last Anthony another decade, and there's room for younger neighbor kids to play on it for years, too.

But this is Rainbow's last move. The timbers I fear can't take another migration.
And that's fine, it's happy here and we're happy to have it, and it gets a ton of use and a lot of love.
And Joe -- you were right, way back when: It is a pain in the ass to mow around.
But worth it.