Ash Wednesday
Puck was still in the throes of learning the English language in a proper manner.
When told by OLeif or Collette: “I love you.”
…he responded with an, “I do.”
Or when asked in the morning, “Do you want oatmeal for breakfast?”
…he would answer with, “I just want to.”
And at bath time the previous evening, when scolded for drinking the bath water…
“I was washing my teeth.”
At the house:
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Mom and Linnea were busy pumping out the mathematics.
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Carrie-Bri and Rose were clearing out the remainder of junk in the garage.
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Carrie still busy with business preparations before leaving for Whole Foods with Grewe.
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Rose sorting through the 1930’s train set from the attic, complete with cast iron accessories…
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Rose discussing upcoming possibilities in archaeology of the Mediterranean…
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Francis continued prep for his driver’s permit and final requirements to become a Life Scout.
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And Linnea completed her paper on the Roman Empire before leaving for gymnastics.
At lunch, Collette was making sandwiches…
“I want peppy-roni on my sandwich too, Mama,” said Puck happily.
And then, when Francis went to see if the Olympics were on yet…
“I watch da Limpticks too?”
In the afternoon, Rose and Puck drew pictures of silly faces with rabbit teeth and played hide-and-seek.
And Carrie brought back a loaf of challah bread for Collette — the best bread in the world. And ingredients to make various Middle Eastern snacks, regarding one of her small companies; she immediately got to work on a plate of little rich Indian cakes and a bowl of hummus. She also brought back a giant aloe leaf longer than her arm.
“Cleopatra used to have an aloe massage every day for its healing qualities,” she explained.
That evening, OLeif played at the Ash Wednesday service, Judah and Henri officiating, and Collette and Puck accompanying.
After the ashes had been spread on Collette’s forehead, Puck looked at her with a sense of concern.
“What’s on your head, Mama?” he asked.
“Ash.”
She then attempted a brief explanation of sin.
“Are you a sinner, Puck?”
“I not.”
He thought more about this for awhile as the congregants began to leave for the night.
“I don’t want cash on my head!” he declared after awhile. “That would be a bad idea.”
Then again later, “You have a rash on your head, Mama.”
And then, leaving for the car…
“You have mustache on your head, Mama!”
One day he would get it. One day…
He was then afterward hurried home before entering the hypnagogic state and tucked comfortably in his crib for the night in time for Collette to continue, further, the watching of winter sport, and then the little Irish village of Orla, Aiden, Niamh, Brian, and etc.