Quiet Hours

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Once again, Collette was awaken by a little person snuggling himself under the covers.
“I want to be next to Mama because I love her,” he explained to OLeif. “So… tell me about your life.”
He stood up on the bed to pull aside the curtains…
“Let’s draw the sheets,” he said. “Was that Daddy’s pillow I stepped on, Mama? Or your leg?”
“Sometimes things don’t happen the way you want to,” he said later out of the blue during his breakfast of two slices of banana bread and a rerun of Call it Courage on cassette tape.

Yes, a dash of snow had fallen in the night.
And from nine o’clock in the morning till eleven-thirty, OLeif completed his studies for the weekend while Collette and Puck made paving stones out of gray and white moon sand.
The boys departed around noon for the Silverspoon’s after the snow had all melted.
Collette took over at noon to complete edits, formatting, and follow-up emails for her book. This took two and a half hours. The rest of the afternoon also included some debauched Yul Brynner autobiography and unsatisfying Henry James. Decadence. Immorality…
“You always thought, growing up, that certain times of history had… less of that,” Collette had commented.
“Humans,” OLeif replied. “I don’t know what Doctor Who sees in ’em.”

It was somehow a long day. OLeif returned with burgers, curly fries, ice cold root beer, and hot crunchy mini churros. And Puck had big hugs and announcements and cornbread, apples, and bananas from his nana to share.

Somehow, despite the work done, it felt like a rather large waste of a day.