Ant Farm
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Puck had preoccupied himself with an old book of poetry and short stories, indicating that he would be busy with it for some time…
“Since I won’t be done for an hour, could you get somethin’?” he asked.
Collette could only presume he meant something edible.
As the morning stretched into other things, still as cool as fall, Puck rummaged in the knick-knack drawer…
“I’m a pretty busy little man,” he said importantly. “I’m collecting all the nails.”
During lunch, Collette flipped on another Spanish lesson while Puck examined an array of hors d’oeuvres picks with glass handles in various colors and patterns, deciding which to use for his chicken and cheese cubes by conversing quietly with himself…
“It’s a lollipop in there. No, it’s not a lollipop. I know. It’s a Christmas man. No, it’s not a Christmas man. It has pink in the middle. What could be better than somethin’ pink in the middle?…”
A whirlwind of leaves spun into the patio as Puck got busy checking on the condition of his toes, extending the meal further.
“Ha!” Puck declared. “Someone else doesn’t have ripe leaves like we do! Ha! Mama. We’re rich. They don’t have very much.”
Collette corrected the boastful attitude, but had to agree that he was correct about the “ripe leaves”.
It was still cool, with rain and storms expected throughout the weekend into Monday. That was just about right. They had even been cautioned with a frost advisory.
Collette and Puck spent some time out in the cool sun for the afternoon. A single pinkish rose had bloomed Easter Sunday – the first. It had now flattened out in the sun. Puck dug a hole in the dirt with a screwdriver beneath the lilac. He studied his work with his gray hoodie pulled close over his head, constructing passageways “for the ants”…
“They didn’t have to done it themselves,” he explained. “Finally I did what the ants wanted. Now I’m going to cover it up so they can find it theirselves.”
Meanwhile, Collette worked with the ivy.
“Mama, could you get me packages of clover and flowers, right there?” Puck pointed to several tufts of clover-looking bundled sticking their heads out of the dirt. “I’m going to have an ant farm.”
They retired later indoors to complete tasks before dinner…
“I’ve been doing much work on my garden,” Puck continued, inspired.
Puck downed two all-beef hot dogs before joining Collette for another game, although he seemed to be more fascinated with the commercials, and still requested the ritual Happy Hollisters before bed…
“We will pause from reading for the commercials, and when Mr. Berkman and Mr. Holliday are on the television. Ok, Mama?”
As he went down for the night, he used the booming quality of his Silverspoon voice to shout out to his Mama in the basement…
“Love ya!”
OLeif was out for the night. Dinner and conversation in the city with a buddy and his gal. He picked up a bottle of wine on the way.
So what did Collette do with her time?
Did it even need a mention, really…