Bringing Back Sligo

Of all the things I expected when we purchased Sligo and by starting this blog the last thing on my mind was making connections with strangers.  I knew family and friends would want to know what was going on, curious to watch our slow descent into insanity and, of course, the progress of the house but I didn’t expect to hear from people with real connections to the property.

Over the last few months I have heard from and met(!) descendants of the family who built the house.  I have talked genealogy and researched extensively said family that they kind of feel like my own at this point.  I have met, by total chance, a possible descendant of Dr. Mortimer, one of the first men to own the property.  I have talked with folks who either lived at the property or who knew someone who lived at the property and remember visiting.

I never expected my life to be so enriched by this project but here I am, with my “two sizes too small” heart slowly growing.

Since work is progressing on the house but nothing really exciting is going on I thought I would write about the ICEE Machine acquisition of 2017 as alluded to in my last post.  I’ve known Marcus for 13 years and sometimes when I write about him I forget that many people haven’t known him as long and haven’t been privy to his shenanigans.  So, to sum up Marcus:  If it’s free, not matter what “it” is, Marcus is going to take it.  Anything more than free and you (as in I) will hear some grief.

So, on to the ICEE Machine.  In Williamsburg there was a convenience store at the front of the neighborhood which went by the name of “Kwik Out.”  There were many times we would ride bikes up to the store and the girls would go in with their little wallets and then walk out with a lollipop that the man gave them for free I think mostly to keep the line moving because they weren’t very good at counting out their money and also because they’re cute, little blondies.  I would usually go back in to make sure it was OK that they had a free lollipop and something wasn’t lost in translation between two little girls who barely knew their left from their right and an elderly, Middle Eastern man.

Anyway, this all to say that at some point Marcus struck up a rapport with the Kwik Out guys and one day he noticed an ICEE Machine sitting outside of the store, near the dumpster.  For a week it sat out there and, I swear to God, I didn’t even have to be in the car to know Marcus was eye balling it every time he came in and out of the neighborhood.  Finally, one day, he said “I wonder what they’re planning on doing with that ICEE Machine?”  “It doesn’t really matter, does it,” I replied, “because no matter what it’s their problem.”  He feigned indignation as if he was not the one who had already brought home a broken arcade game, numerous TVs, and a couple of jet skis.  (In fairness, I should add that many of the broken things he has brought home have been fixed but at that particular time in our lives we were still in the process of renovating our Williamsburg home which left very little time for tinkering)

After what I believed to be a hard”no” (although I’m now realizing my “hard no” needs a little more work because we now own a 130 year old home) I thought the subject had been dropped.  So, about a week goes by and I’ve been out of the house for an hour when I get a text message from Marcus.  I look down and I see a picture of an ICEE Machine sitting in our driveway with the words “How much do you love me” and an obnoxious amount of smiley emojis.  “What. The. Fuck?” I say.  I text it, too, and not the cute “WTF?”  It was the full text.

Needless to say, I was not amused.  Granted, he was able to haggle a half-broken ICEE Machine for free but what in the actual hell were we going to do with it?!  Obviously, and I say this as I roll my eyes, most everyone else thought it was great which kind of fits the theme for just about everything Marcus does but which brings me great consternation.  “Oh, you got a broken ICEE Machine?!  It’s gonna be great!”  “You found a broken, old-school, Ivan Stewart Off Road arcade game?!  It’s gonna be great!”  “You bought a 130 year old, derelict home?!  It’s gonna be great!”

So, super long story short, for nearly one year, the ICEE Machine sat in the garage, moving from one corner to the other, still partially filled with ICEE liquid and smelling of a Kwik Out (which one might be wondering how the smell of grease can permeate metal and I’m here to tell you it can).  Finally, as it became clear that we were moving and the ICEE Machine could not move with us, Marcus put it on Craigslist and someone, probably some other husband with an equally weary wife, picked it up and is hopefully making better use of it than we ever did.

ICEE Machine in our driveway.