A Broom
The Bear thought it would be hilarious to scare me this morning. For the record, this is pretty much an impossible thing to do. And also for the record, all I did was walk into the bathroom, set down a towel and wash cloth by the sink, and…
“Rawr!”
Fortunately for The Bear, I only hand-chopped his claws instead of his face as he jumped out from behind the shower curtain. Also fortunately for him, I’m not a screamer.
“I almost killed you,” I told him.
“Try to punch me as hard as you can,” he commanded.
A hearty thunk in the gut revealed the echoing sound of a distant drum on a hill somewhere in nowhere.
“See? I could have killed you.”
The Bear only laughed…
“So where would you have tried to punch me if you were trying to kill me?”
“Probably the throat.”
“Good,” he nodded in approval, leaving. Then he stuck his head back around the corner… “But how would you find it behind the beard?”
See, here’s the problem…
I have detailed schedules of what I have to do every day. Yes, even Saturdays. And I’m all gung-ho and tally-ho and everything to get that stuff done early. The earlier, the better. I’m all cranked up to go, spring into action, cliché every – when the going gets tough, the tough get going. But then…
I find an article about St. Louis.
It has happened many times in my past. And this time, it was a random and highly accurate piece from the UK Telegraph, extolling the beautiful and friendly city that is my home, and I was sucked in. I get so puffed up with a ridiculous amount of St. Louis pride, I can feel my brain split a little… and I of course forget about everything else. It just happens.
I didn’t have much of a choice to ignore the morning in the end, though. We tried connecting with Addis Ababa at somewhere around nine sharp. The world just isn’t as romantic as it used to be. No waving soggy white handkerchiefs on a Medieval dock to African-bound missionaries in leaky creaky seafaring ships, never to be heard from again. Instead, click a few buttons Star Trek style, and… there they all are. It just doesn’t seem exactly…
…difficult enough.
Anyway, this time – success. Funny, awkward, fuzzy, time-delayed audio cut-out success. But contact had been established, and the two buddies an ocean apart got to chat again after a four month interlude.
The kitchen was heavily perfumed with garlic once The Bear got cooking at the Silverspoon’s for a late lunch. Nothing more indifferent-looking than a pan of de-corked mushrooms. Blaaaaaah. The Bear doesn’t care. He knows of my disdain for forest fungus.
He also has a huge love for king-sized beds. Theodore and Gloria were also in the market. So we considered the pros and cons of that whole escapade. Springs, boxes, foam, pads, fluff, glitter, jazz and snazz…
“Here’s a six thousand dollar one…” Gloria perused the Internets. “What, does it sing to you at night?”
And Puck fussed around the house and yard, just being a cranky McCrank pants, as The Bear would call him, whining about not enough stuff that he wanted to do and other various grab-bags of complains. He was not indulged. I did allow, however, another viewing of “Brave” [get our $1.30 worth.] Hot tea as the sun was setting. The Bear sent me a less-pleasant article regarding Native Americans and the Adoption Era. Disgusting. Disgraceful. Swept under the rug. As usual. I know I get this whole thing from my great-grandpa. I guess even specific sympathies and remorses can run in the genes.
Puck and I read about Johnny Appleseed for his evening story right after I shuffled to the next index card on his prayer list…
“Uncle Curly,” I read his all-over-the-place hand writing. “Well, he’s getting married soon, so you could remember that when you pray for him.”
Puck “closed” his eyes, (i.e. fluttering his eyelids together in rapid motion)…
“Please let Lulu not get trapped in any traps at the wedding. I hope there’s not a loose brick and a trap opens up and she falls through…”
“The bottom line is: the middle of fly-over country is worth a landing. Yes, come visit New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington DC and others. But make sure you carve out some time to spend here, in St Louis, Missouri, with the best people, in the best city in America.” – Mark Sutherland, UK Telegraph
[http://www.telegraph.co.uk/expat/expatlife/9687462/Head-west-to-St-Louis-Americas-greatest-city.html]
Hear, hear, my friend. Hear, hear…