Cloud Days
Saturday, August 13, 2011
In which a relaxing day is spent under a pretty awesome sky…
OLeif woke up with ideas about building a Swedish Viking lawn game…
Puck was intent on two hours of playing mah-jongg with himself at the kitchen table. No rules; just right.
“Ah. It’s a good day to go to Nana’s house,” he said with satisfaction, like a billionaire in an embroidered waistcoat, surveying his wealth.
“After you finish your porridge,” replied his drill sergeant.
“Yes, sir, Mama.”
In the night, someone had hit the mailbox, just enough to send it over at about a 70-degree angle. As if the faded green plastic, lid-attached-via-tree-twig, wasn’t disgraceful enough…
Out into the late morning.
“It’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?” Puck asked, requesting that the windows of the car be rolled down.
It was almost a Cahokia Mounds day. Not quite cool enough, but close.
At the Silverspoon’s… Izzy had taken his first solo road trip to Nashville for the weekend.
Theodore was mowing the lawn in a broad-brimmed hat, smoking a cigar.
Gloria drove up shortly later in a 2011 Mazda 3. So they took a drive while Theodore finished the lawn.
‘Golden Water’, as Puck called it: Canada Dry Sparkling Seltzer Water (Lemon Lime)…
In other news…
Sadly, Tigger had passed that week, at the ripe old age of somewhere over sixteen years old. His sister, Snickers, carried on.
And in the afternoon, Gloria departed for a farewell party for a former church member who was returning to her missionary position in China.
Contacts research for contracts… always and ongoing.
Little Bear for Puck.
Studies for OLeif.
A nap for Theodore.
When Gloria returned later to read to Puck after his bath, clouds piled like marshmallow crème towers in the west.
Meanwhile…
Plans carried on into the evening: Linnea coming from another volleyball practice, Mom, Dad, and Francis at the Rams game with Uncle Mo, the girls were at church (Rose cat-sitting for Ivy), Joe was, of course, still in Colorado… and Collette visited Ivy’s kitties herself to administer their tricky dinner involving: the microwave, Lysine, and cranberry powder, while Rose was downtown.
The sky was brilliant. Towering sculptures of light and water.
“Daddy?” Puck asked after awhile. “I wonder what clouds would taste like…”
“Do you think they would be sweet or salty?”
“Sweet, I think. But guess what. Had you ever had a cloud cake?”
“I haven’t. But we could make one.”
“How do we even eat one? How do we get them down, I mean?”
“We go up high.”
“But you couldn’t sit on a cloud, Daddy. You’re too heavy. You would sink.”
“Would you sink?”
“No. I’m not that heavy, but I can carry heavy ffings [things]. Like a stron [strong] bug.”
And home.
Visions of chocolate-covered donuts…
Weekends were like small vacations, most of the time, really.