September 19
As it had happened, those folds of lightening in the west mutated, exponentially, into monsters. Not long after Francis had called them to warn of warnings, as they entered the highway, the natural forces of the heavens split. Lightening of enormous magnitude. Torrents of rain. Crashes of thunder. Bolts of light hitting only dozens of yards away. Spectacular spectacles.
The show continued into the morning during church, when Henri took the pulpit under crashing rain and dark violet skies.
“So Sinai told me I could preach about anything today,” he said. “So at first I was going to preach about trees, in the Bible…”
BOOM!
Apparently Someone had not agreed with this initial eureka.
Instead, Henri preached about suffering and half an hour later, realizing the clock on the wall…
“Well, I’m out of time. I was gonna tell you about… Well… I’ve got no time. Never mind. Ok, let’s pray. Yeah.”
And there had been a pretty fantastic trip-fall by Oholibamah down the classroom hall during the offertory prayer. Collette looked up just in time to witness that one and covered a laugh as he sprawled all over the place, but somehow managed to not fall over completely…
Earlier at breakfast… Puck was healthily entertained by the storm.
“When I was a little boy,” he said seriously, “I got striked by lightening.”
And when Collette told him that thunder might eat little boys… just to see where he stood regarding fantasy…
“You’re a kidiot, Mama!” he laughed, (Puck’s invented word for, ‘You’re kidding’). “You’re playing wiff me!”
Back at the house, the rain still fell, and Collette turned on Jim Henson’s The Real Story of Jack and the Beanstalk for Puck while Rose lounged around in her reading sweater, her comfy pants with two mismatched hiking socks rolled up over them halfway up her calves, and her new frames with lion-face cut-outs on the stems, which were very smart-looking, and a book about cornbread, and Agatha Christie.
And Puck grinned and did his usual baby things with the most precious of joyful dimples and happiness.
Lunch was more “Carrie-Gourmet” as Mom put it: Thai chicken, cold bean and pepper salad, mini sour cream muffins, and the chocolate brownies for dessert.
Rose had a date with her symphony buddy that afternoon at two o’clock. (She had also taken a trip to the Zoo with Erasmus the previous morning… she seemed to have been in high demand lately…) So she chowed down through her meal as Collette, Carrie-Bri, and Joe waited out a fifteen-minute halftime in the Atletico Madrid/FC Barcelona match, Collette’s team against Carrie’s.
“I really don’t like American football…” said Collette.
“Yeah,” Joe agreed.
“It’s just a bunch of big guys running into each other,” Carrie was saying, “…Oh, hi, Dad.”
They laughed as they saw Dad standing behind them with his smile lines. It was a well-known fact that Dad had been a star quarterback in high school. A very fast runner.
“Uh, sorry, Dad.”
And in the end… Barcelona took it. A disappointment for Collette, although Messi was injured, so that was another damper…
Later, Carrie-Bri had promised Puck a trip to the toy store. So they visited Target under spritzing skies, where he picked out a box set of five matchbox cars. That, with a box of shining silver sparkled metallic Band-Aids and a box of purple Passion tea for Carrie, their visit was complete.
And Carrie had booked a river day cruise, researched wineries, and looked for a Cardinal’s baseball cap for her friend coming in from South Africa Wednesday evening. She had also added another student to her English-teaching repertoire…
“My first sheik,” she said. “He has the royal crest and everything.”
Back at the house once more… Mom and Dad were just leaving to visit with Grandma Snicketts before Aunt Tuuli arrived to spend the night with her and bring her to the hospital the following morning for back surgery at ten o’clock.
And a mile-walk down the muggy gray for OLeif, Collette, Francis in his go-cart, Linnea-Irish on the old bike, and Puck on his tricycle.
Nice day.
The show continued into the morning during church, when Henri took the pulpit under crashing rain and dark violet skies.
“So Sinai told me I could preach about anything today,” he said. “So at first I was going to preach about trees, in the Bible…”
BOOM!
Apparently Someone had not agreed with this initial eureka.
Instead, Henri preached about suffering and half an hour later, realizing the clock on the wall…
“Well, I’m out of time. I was gonna tell you about… Well… I’ve got no time. Never mind. Ok, let’s pray. Yeah.”
And there had been a pretty fantastic trip-fall by Oholibamah down the classroom hall during the offertory prayer. Collette looked up just in time to witness that one and covered a laugh as he sprawled all over the place, but somehow managed to not fall over completely…
Earlier at breakfast… Puck was healthily entertained by the storm.
“When I was a little boy,” he said seriously, “I got striked by lightening.”
And when Collette told him that thunder might eat little boys… just to see where he stood regarding fantasy…
“You’re a kidiot, Mama!” he laughed, (Puck’s invented word for, ‘You’re kidding’). “You’re playing wiff me!”
Back at the house, the rain still fell, and Collette turned on Jim Henson’s The Real Story of Jack and the Beanstalk for Puck while Rose lounged around in her reading sweater, her comfy pants with two mismatched hiking socks rolled up over them halfway up her calves, and her new frames with lion-face cut-outs on the stems, which were very smart-looking, and a book about cornbread, and Agatha Christie.
And Puck grinned and did his usual baby things with the most precious of joyful dimples and happiness.
Lunch was more “Carrie-Gourmet” as Mom put it: Thai chicken, cold bean and pepper salad, mini sour cream muffins, and the chocolate brownies for dessert.
Rose had a date with her symphony buddy that afternoon at two o’clock. (She had also taken a trip to the Zoo with Erasmus the previous morning… she seemed to have been in high demand lately…) So she chowed down through her meal as Collette, Carrie-Bri, and Joe waited out a fifteen-minute halftime in the Atletico Madrid/FC Barcelona match, Collette’s team against Carrie’s.
“I really don’t like American football…” said Collette.
“Yeah,” Joe agreed.
“It’s just a bunch of big guys running into each other,” Carrie was saying, “…Oh, hi, Dad.”
They laughed as they saw Dad standing behind them with his smile lines. It was a well-known fact that Dad had been a star quarterback in high school. A very fast runner.
“Uh, sorry, Dad.”
And in the end… Barcelona took it. A disappointment for Collette, although Messi was injured, so that was another damper…
Later, Carrie-Bri had promised Puck a trip to the toy store. So they visited Target under spritzing skies, where he picked out a box set of five matchbox cars. That, with a box of shining silver sparkled metallic Band-Aids and a box of purple Passion tea for Carrie, their visit was complete.
And Carrie had booked a river day cruise, researched wineries, and looked for a Cardinal’s baseball cap for her friend coming in from South Africa Wednesday evening. She had also added another student to her English-teaching repertoire…
“My first sheik,” she said. “He has the royal crest and everything.”
Back at the house once more… Mom and Dad were just leaving to visit with Grandma Snicketts before Aunt Tuuli arrived to spend the night with her and bring her to the hospital the following morning for back surgery at ten o’clock.
And a mile-walk down the muggy gray for OLeif, Collette, Francis in his go-cart, Linnea-Irish on the old bike, and Puck on his tricycle.
Nice day.