All in a Day

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Collette would view the world each morning very differently, from one to the next. One could wake to a day as hot and bright as any Egyptian sun could provide, or to the sound of wind and thunder in the knolls of the surrounding neighborhood. Wind, sun, or rainbows would always provide the same opportunity for Collette – to view the world during that particular day as being different from all others that would ever be, and to see how special one could make it for another. And on a day such as that, when the skies were full of smoky grays and the cool October winds rustled the berry branches outside the windows, it became all the easier to imagine and act upon the good things of life.

It was at 8:10 she woke that morning, finding herself tucked under a pumpkin orange blanket on the living room couch. The sound of her husband, OLeif, running the water in the bathroom sink, woke her from her fitful three hours of caffeinated sleep. It was of little matter, however, for she would make up the lost hours another time.

She slowly pushed herself up from the couch. With a bit of a stretch, she wandered into the other room to switch on her computer. OLeif had climbed back into bed after a late night himself. So in an attempt not to disturb him, she loudly uncrinkled a bag of corn chip strips and crunched them while the computer booted. The thought of chips before ten o’clock in the morning rather disgusted her, however, her hunger outlasted her rulebook of food consumption, and thus she continued to munch.

She would not have slept on the couch but for the obnoxiousness of her caffeine-filled stomach. Her tossing & turning would surely have been fatal to OLeif’s rest. And so, that being understood, she began to check the usual sites: bank account, e-mail, library due dates, etc… and recorded the expenses, credits, and dates from the mentioned.

Collette’s morning routine was predictable, necessary. Her first stop was to read a Bible chapter, and two to three pages of Spurgeon’s sermon of the week, (although she had done so earlier, at 4:40am). After the finances were seen to, a hot shower would be taken, (usually on Fridays, Saturdays, Mondays, and Wednesdays, depending on the variables of the week), and then breakfast would be broken out – usually an apple and two wheat toasts or oatmeal for herself, and cold cereal for OLeif. (He, being like Dad, her two oldest cousins, and brothers, would eat cereal at any time of the day or night.) And after a talk with him, a goodbye, and a wave from the balcony, off Collette would be to a day of hearty, whatever greeted her.

That day was like all others, and she was greeted by the now-awake OLeif. His laptop was humming and his spirits were up as usual.

“Good morning,” he stretched open his arms to hug her in his bear-grip.

His glasses were cock-eyed and his hair was sticking up at odd angles on the top.

“Hi there,” Collette squeezed her eyes shut and half-grimaced as he hugged her tight. “I was up till five this morning.”

“Oh, poor girl,” he made a sad face for her. “Go back to sleep then.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m awake now. I’ll sleep later; things to do, things to do.” She walked back into the living room and fluffed up the couch cushions. “I have chicken for your lunch today.” She went on as she looked through papers on the coffee table. “You’ll have to tell me how it tastes. I didn’t try it. I just put paprika on it and dumped in that can of tomatoes. It didn’t look good to me, and I figured you’d like it.”

OLeif laughed at her, “So you gave it to me because it looked bad.”

“No,” Collette smiled a bit, tired. “You know I hate tomatoes. I only like them as tomato sauce on pizza, very little, with no chunks, and a lot of cheese…” She mumbled off into the bathroom to pull up her hair.

“Tomato cheese, no tomatoes, cheese of tomato…” OLeif talked after her distractedly, as he had returned to his computer.

Collette thought hard after he left that morning. As she attended to these thoughts, a glance out the window saw a bright bold banner in red and white titled, “GO CARDS!” The deciding game, most likely, of the World Series would take place that night, the favored Cardinals against the so-called “cursed” Boston Red Sox. And Boston led, four to nothing.

Using the television as her medium for her daily concert, she averted her eyes to the ceiling as her hand withdrew the next disc in line from the cabinet beneath. Without looking at case or disc, she inserted the selected piece into the player, turned around and waited for the surprise piece of music. Today it would be dirging fiddles and mountainous mournings from “The Last of the Mohicans”. Yet another daily ritual, continued throughout the study hours.

She settled back on her couch with a glass of juice, scattering papers in a whirl of study frenzy as the clock ticked into ten o’clock. Time passed on pleasantly with several phone calls, writings, and mundane tasks. It soon dawned upon her that this was no way to spend the morning, writing of such boring subjects at hourly intervals. So when the psychology and German had had their share of fun, she stacked them neatly beneath the unfinished mission table in front of her and left for the kitchen.