Thunder: no fear Lightning: a burned scar Wind: I bow Rain: thirst quenched Sunshine: spread arms and a smile Moonlight: shadows in the dark Tree shade: my brothers, my friends Bird song: familiar refrain
I sneezed with violence, my shoulders convulsing. A puff of white dust sidestepped from my arm and caught a ride on the breeze as it passed through the window. Somehow, sanding sheet rock isn't on my list of favorites. It makes my hair go grey, on my head and down my arms. It highlights the creases at the corners of my eyes and makes unwanted pilgrimages up my nasal passages.
"Phew," I muttered as I shuffled down the stairs to the front door. With a twist of the wrist, I swung it open, leaving a white hand print behind for posterity. Our daily friend the sun was bright in my eyes. I raised my hand, making my own personal shadow across my face. Once my eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, I took a look about the wide open lawn. Nice trees about the edge, pretty pond across the way, lovely horses in a pasture just over there. Hmm, nice... yes.
I started to take a long, deep breath in appreciation for the dustless air, but it turned into another violent sneeze. I guess I must have had a halo of that beastly dust hanging about my head. "Oh hum," I coughed as I trudged towards my sister's car. From it, I was thinking of grabbing my paint brush to use later after the sanding was done. But my progress was suddenly halted when from around the back of the car stepped... a fawn! I stopped. It stopped. We gazed at each other with a measure of curiosity.
It was about hip high, a fawn just out of its spots. Dark limpid eyes, pools of innocent water under the limbs of bowing trees. Large, white lined ears, wide set, ever moving to catch each sound. I could go on with the description, but then I'd bore you all. Onward I go...
It stepped towards me, right into my personal space. And do you know what it did? It commenced sniffing me like a dog. Small snuffly noises, soft touches with its moist nose on my hands which I had held out towards it, palms upward. Slowly, I slid my hand down its neck and across its narrow back. Have you ever seen a deer up close? They are a work of slender elegance. Which means, for a fawn, extreme sticklike-ness. All impossibly thin legs and neck and, and, and. I think you get the point.
This fawn allowed me to run my hands down its legs and to scratch behind its radar-like ears. I moved over to the car and reaching through the open window, picked up an open bag of Cheetos. Yum. The fawn's nose moved into overdrive. Then, it did something that totally caught me off guard. It jumped up and placed it hooves on me in an attempt to reach the source of the delectable smell. I then experienced another new thing. Fawn hooves are practically razor sharp. Yikes! I fended it off and moved towards the door... I suppose I should really get back to work.... *sigh*. All good things must come to an end, as they say. I pushed the door open and moved inward, but the silly little beast attempted to follow. Grr... "Back, back!" I said. It was a pathetic attempt to sound stern, but who can yell at such a sweeeeeet little deer? So I did the next best thing. I pushed it away and closed the door in its face.
Trudge, trudge, up the stairs. Back to work, hey ho.
In the mines of Moria, Gandalf and Frodo speak together while they rest from their travels.
Frodo, his countinence weary and troubled, sighed. "I wish the Ring had never come to me... I wish none of this had ever happened." "So do all who live in such times", Gandalf replied, "but it is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you were also meant to have it." Gandalf smiled. "And that is an encouraging thought."
Paint. There must be some reason that word is only a letter away from 'pain'. This is what I've mused at times during the long hours of flinging paint about rooms. Then the second wind: "I can do this forever! I love painting!" Ah... there's nothing like discovering the joy of intimate communion with a paint roller. Everyone should have a chance to experience this joy at one time or another. If you had come along the other day while I was painting the white picket fence... I might have pulled a "Tom Sawyer" on you.
Then there is the frustration. Today, I was in the bathroom placing a cream color over a slightly darker cream, while in the bedroom right through the door my mum and Katie were having fun with purpley color. I slaved away, rolling, brushing, standing on high ladder, and low ladder. Then one of them walked into the room and asked, "Which walls have you painted so far?" Arggggggggggggggh! The lighting in the room did a good job of masking my masterpiece of applied talent. In fact, the color I was using actually made the whole place look worse, worse I say, than its original state because it needed two coats. Imagine patchy half-applied paint. Their efforts transformed their room, while mine made the bathroom look diseased. *SIGH*
Something else. At the end of a long day of lovingly laying latex layers on lousy walls I sometimes become a bit... shall we say, loud about current observations on my situation. Have you ever knelt on a marble vanity? My poor skin, mashed, ground between bone and immovable marble. I yelled about it. Katie came with concern to see if I was ok. I was... in her eyes, anyway. Then, I bumped my wrist against the steaming hot bulb of the vanity lights. I yelled again. Next... I dripped more paint! Ooops. From the great height of about fifteen feet (very high ceiling). I climber allll the waaaay doooown the tallll ladder to wipe the lousy dot from the floor. Then alll the way back up the seemingly endless rungs (heights make me weak-kneed). More yelling about the unfairness of life in general. Suddenly, from the other room I heard.... laughing. Katie was laughing. At ME! *angry eyes*
I say. Talk about adding insult to injury. Her beeeeautiful room. My diseased one. My pain. Her comedy show. Grrr.
Trails of vapor swirl evilly, twining themselves about the gnarled extremities of the crusty dragon. She shifts her hulking weight and snaps up her head, spraying a fine mist of noxious vapor. The curious villagers who had been standing at a safe distance looking on in nervous interest shriek with terror and flee in all directions. Gripped by panicky haste, they collide with each other, sprawling in tangled heaps of humanity, flailing limbs clawing the lowering sky. The dragon snorts, the sound of it raising hair on the peon's arms. She turns again and fixes her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes upon her surroundings, letting loose another cataclysmic suspiration. Bending low, she rasps her scaly head along the instep of her great, clawed foot. Passionate indignation grips her and she moves as lightning to pour it out upon the world. Raring up, her sides heave as she inhales in preparation for a mighty blast. Suddenly, a thin cry pierces through the mists of her confused mind. "Raaaaaaaaaaaachelllllllllllllll!!" The dragon sits down abruptly with a mighty thump, looks about with an embarrassed air and blinks painfully. Then, as she rubs her eyes once again, she mumbles to herself, "Stupid eye cold." Turning on her bed, she curls into a small ball and withdraws under the covers... a diminutive lump of misery.
-a territorial rooster -overripe bananas (on second thought, all bananas) -a ceiling fan right over a bunk bed -the female brain -the piece of real estate directly behind a grouchy equine -squdgie grapes -touching the end of a nine volt battery to the tip of your tongue -wrestling with a friend who is stronger than you, unless you enjoy being creamed -riding a scooter down a rain-slicked hill -standing on a wheeled office chair -standing near a fire ant hill -driving a lawn mower directly beneath a branch which only just clears the seat back -eating plain cocoa powder -rug burns on the face (don't ask) -eating inhabited peaches -tripping while mucking out a barn -holding a sister's hand while she touches the electric fence (the current skips her and gets you) -swimming in leech infested waters -large angry billy goats with big horns -forgetting to put the roll of film in the camera before use -soggy Cheerios -spilling hot wax on your favorite shirt -the careless navigation of a creek using slippery stones -placing a hot glass baking dish in cold water -taking a nap under the hot sun while wearing sunglasses (think raccoon) -telling Joe B. Jr. that you know how to butcher chickens -losing the rip cord on the way down -shooting a gun at a body of water -joking about faux bombs in earshot of airport security -nagging ("which is the repetition of unpalatable truths." Edith Clara Summerskill) -writing long lists without any apparent end -this must be the end then, apparently
Terms to use the next time you fall off your bike: schmucked, snorked, yerked, doinked, munched, hunted moles, dug for worms, chewed mud, went nose surfing, communed with the centipede gods, tasted the trail, got a free tattoo, ate a sidewalk sandwich, did a close-up geological survey, hugged the earth, rode the nose hoe, got a topsoil makeover, made a gravity check [just to make sure it still works], became one with the Earth, did a flying dismount, added to my scab collection, used my face brake, sniffed soil, boned [i.e., hit so hard your flesh was ripped to the bone], and made dirt angels. (www.cannondale.com)
For the rest of us:
Cowardly, wayward, and weak, I change with the changing sky, Today so eager and strong, Tomorrow not caring to try. But He never gives in, And we two shall win, Jesus and I.
I'm back. Mostly in my right mind, whatever that means. The statement "In my right mind" has been firmly changed for me, which is, I suppose, ok. Usually. It gives one a new view on life in any case.
So, a list of observations/thoughts.
-God is good
-I am so richly blessed with so many friends, that I don't know what to do with myself. Except miss them like crazy all the way down here in Georgia. *sniff* Poor pitiful me. If anyone wants to pop down and say hi, I've already paved the way.
-Please, nobody ask me to drive anywhere again. Not for a Very Long Time. The trip home took all of 24 hours. Lisa set her alarm for 11:45pm, we left Fairwood at about 12am, and precisely as we drove into our driveway in warm GA her alarm went off again at the previously set time. Cool, yes? At least I thought so.
-I love the Feast!!! God did some amazing things for me while I was there. I think some of you might have wondered if I was even able to be serious... because I spent a lot of my time acting a bit giddy, or at least, uhm, not serious. But that was only because I was so happy to be there with my friends. 'Friends' is another word to be redefined. Try: People-who-know-the-real-me-and-still-love-me-and-are-(and have been)-there-for-me-through-thick-and-thin... etc. (You, my friends, have been a good part of the reason I am on my feet again.) Also, people who have gone through the thick and thin and are still here, loving God, following Him, not giving up. It's not something at which to sneeze. We hold each other up, in joy, in happy times, in pain, through agony. We don't dash in and shout a quick "Aww, you'll be ok!" We stand by faithfully, because we are following God faithfully.
-Wow, I didn't know I was going to write all that. Glad I did, though.
-Yikes! It's time for me to go to bed. I've got a lot of misplaced sleep to discover.