Cotton Candy & Archaeology
Sunday, September 11, 2011
In which it seems a good sort of day for picnics and lectures…
Now that OLeif’s hair (and reddish beard) was adequately braidable — that was an interesting night around a McDonald’s Dr. Pepper and 3rd Rock from the Sun — Collette had some decisions to make regarding the future of his ‘look’. It was not exactly a matter that occupied a sizable amount of her thoughts, but it was a back-burner one at least…
As they entered the world of Sunday, the fog was dense. It would have been eerie except for the annoying glowing ball shielded just behind it. What good was a fog if the sun was halfway present.
Church was…
Hell froze over.
“Dad?… You’re wearing… jeans… to church?”
Mom explained that, due to the nature of the church picnic being held following Sunday School, and because church had recommended wearing ‘comfortable clothing’ to the picnic… Dad had complied.
“Are you sure, Adel? They actually requested us to wear casual clothes to church? Are you certain?”
“All the papers were signed and notarized,” OLeif said with a grin.
Meanwhile, Linnea limped inside with a volleyball injury. Something about the instep of her foot after a grueling ten matches on Saturday. Cough: child labor laws: cough.
And OLeif pulled holes in the knees of his jeans.
The picnic, involving: sno-cones, face-painting, cotton candy, a giant blow-up slide, and hay rides lasted about an hour from Collette’s point of view. Puck loudly declared from behind plates of burgers and guacamole chips that he was going to get some…
“Rotten candy!”
Just before one, Collette returned with Dad, Mom, and Francis to the house, followed close behind by Joe. OLeif and Puck remained to join in the hay-riding and sun-burning, and Linnea galavanted with friends, then to the Plums, then to a concert at Dardenne Pres with the youth.
So… pristine afternoon. Cool breezes. Sunshine. All that jazz. Sounded like a good day to attend an archaeology lecture at the History Museum. On the way, they dropped off Carrie-Bri with Louis in The Loop for coffee and Austrian economics. Wild fliers.
Twenty inquisitive guests in the AT&T Multi-purpose Room. Arrival a few minutes short of the opening, so they never learned the actual identity of the lecturer. An hour of photographs of French and English ceramics, privy stashes, Irish tenements, the ridiculous levels of pride exerted by the Victorians… And other interesting facts and anecdotes, including the Indian mound civilization in Chesterfield Valley that was going to probably be bulldozed… o, for crying shame. And the matter of the old Catholic cemeteries being torn apart…
“We thought we were just hitting a bunch of tree roots. Honest.”
Uh-huh…
In reflection, Collette began to wonder if future archaeology of current-day sites would revolve mostly around archaeology of the individual. No one followed a basic pattern anymore. People were too unpredictable. Too many options. Too many choices. People could no longer be dated by the sort of dishware they owned.
When everyone returned for the usual Sunday afternoon reunion…
Rose sent Francis out for a bag of lambswool… things… to finish the final glossing of her antique dresser. He returned.
“Francis! I said lambswool.”
“It is!”
“A picture of a ram on the package doesn’t count.”
Meanwhile, Carrie was conversing with her favorite rosy-cheeked nephew in the kitchen…
“So… where were you before you were born?”
“I was just nowhere.”
“You weren’t even a star?”
“Nope. I was nowhere.”
“So what did you think about before you came here?”
“I thought nuffin’, ’cause if God doesn’t make you, you can’t think anything yet.”
“Hmmm… don’t give me many rabbit trail options with those kinds of answers…”
Out to the porch in the swarms of mosquitoes, to watch Snuggles chase down some fat toads and walk a little too close to the hornets nest in the lawn…
“Don’t let him get too close, Francis,” Carrie warned.
“Aw, don’t worry about it, Carrie. It’s all part of the Circle of Life.”
“Well, I’m gonna take you out of it.”
“Then it would all collapse.”
Back in the living room for Mom’s and Dad’s photos from California, some razzing from Carrie about John MacArthur — they didn’t get along too well…
“So you didn’t get your picture taken with him, eh?”
“You forget. John MacArthur would want his picture taken with Dad.”
“Yeah, you couldn’t get a lens big enough to fit both their heads in it at the same time.”
Smile lines…
And then there was the matter of the Chinese pediatrician from Wash-U who spent half the Saturday cook-out at church talking to Rose… Dr. Hu. Doctor Who… That was a good laugh.
Joe out for a ride on the Ruckus with the GoPro.
As they left, Rose caught one of the fat toads hopping on the sidewalk.
Home.
Carrie Grant detective film. The lead female had Esther’s profile.