Always Progress
What was that pale orange light coming from the living room? I scrubbed my eyes awake. I knew I hadn’t left any lights on last night. But I had left something else on … a candle. Seriously. If I wasn’t almost accidentally incinerating the house as a teenager, here I was at 30, leaving open flames just salivating near a stack of Cardinals magazines. I am a fire hazard. And the funny thing is – I never even light candles.
By the time I was clearing breakfast, I had forgotten about the candle. Oxbear set a folded tin votive in my hand.
“Here. This is the ‘boat’ Puck made for me last night while we were talking about eternal damnation.”
Then he started singing “If I Were King of the Forest” from “The Wizard of Oz” while hunting his packed lunch out of the fridge.
Several hours later, Carrie-Bri was editing our 16th podcast while Francis and I discussed his academic future. A collection of old cowboy tunes played on Pandora: cool … clear … water. Mom set out two loaves of homemade cinnamon bread with cream cheese for an unconventional lunch. Francis, naturally, had to take it to the next level.
“Do we have any icing someplace?” he asked, patting his stomach.
Later, as he slathered a thick piece with a new can of chocolate frosting (which he later learned Mom had bought for a specific recipe), Carrie just stared at him.
“Francis, you are going to die of heart disease.”
He grinned.
I guess I forgot that Carrie was the one who claimed “dibsies” on the World Market cookies I brought over earlier in the morning. Need some zip to kick in for those 8:30 podcasts.
By this time, the cowboy tunes had become yodels. Didn’t realize there were enough recorded yodels to produce an entire station of pure yodeling. But everyone was too busy to “thumbs down”.
Puck came in for a flying leap, this time turning me about 180 on our way to the car. New ideas surging out of his mouth as always.
Stopped for fresh eggs at the farm with Mom on the way back.
Dinner of grilled cheese with bacon and green apple, plus bean soup; discussed Disney World for the spring. Strawberry popsicles for Dad and Puck. Mom chastised Dad for being unable to leave the pantry alone between meals. And Carrie worked on my nails: red sparkles on black, which Puck later was so kind as to inform me looked like “evil witch nails”.