The Broken Day

Monday, July 26, 2010

Collette and Puck started their morning with a few readings from Yeats, mixed in with the usual eclectic batch of Puck-books of course.

Shortly later, Mom dropped off Francis and Linnea-Irish at nine o’clock for mowing and tutoring, under gray skies and quiet, warm, breezes.

Shortly after nine, word came in that OLeif had likely pinched some type of nerve in his back and could barely move. This continued throughout the rest of the day.

About ten o’clock or so, a few workmen came by unexpectedly to adjust the gas-lines in the basement for three hours, as they were so doing with every house in the neighborhood.

Then the clothes dryer broke. Laundry was soon hanging from every available surface in the library.

Nearing the lunch hour, Puck was in sordid trouble for scribbling pen all over the couch cushions.

“I drew another picture of you, Mama!”

Around three-thirty, the workmen shattered one of the windows in the basement. They would replace it the next day. Free window. Not too bad…

Rain fell before six o’clock.

OLeif’s back was still in pain, but he could, at least, move.

And he brought back ice cream to work on websites while watching BallyK with Collette.

Sometimes days ended better than how they started.

So the kitten caught a fish.

‘Answer me this or I’ll eat you up,’

said the kitten.

‘How is an Island a part of the land?’

‘…you must take it on faith

what I tell you,’ said the fish.

‘What’s that?’ said the cat — ‘Faith.’

‘To believe what I tell you

about what you don’t know,’ said the fish.

And the fish told the kitten

how all land is one land

under the sea.

The cat’s eyes were shining

with the secret of it.

And because he loved secrets he believed.

~ The Little Island