The Invasion
Thursday, October 25, 2007
The windows had fogged over that morning. It was cold outside.
Fruit fly city. OLeif and Collette spent the first part of their morning smashing fruit flies in the bathroom. The lure of warm water from the shower had drawn them in. Their carcasses soon lined the floor. As soon as one was shot down, another would spring up from its dazed stupor. Collette wondered what it would be like if fruit flies mutated into four fruit flies for every one that was smashed, and took over the world.
Gray skies, misty winds, cold winds. Wonderful October.
Over at the house, Rose spent a few moments that morning looking over semi-acquaintance “wanna-be” band kids on the Internet. She sighed.
“Oh, this is just sad.”
Joe entered the room.
“I’m starting a band called ‘Emotion Playground Under Crimson Skies’.”
He grinned.
Collette was reading Calvin’s Commentaries on I Timothy. She didn’t mind, however, being distracted from footnotes which read, for example:
“The construction here is tortuous and elliptical. [Hebrew phrase] must be construed between [Hebrew phrase] and [Hebrew phrase], and the protasis at [Hebrew phrase] is without its apodosis, [Hebrew phrase], which must be supplied. The simplest and most natural method is to understand [Hebrew phrase].”
By the time Puck had gone down for his afternoon nap, Mom and Collette headed over to Chesterfield to look through the nursery across from Schroeder’s high school. The fields and forests were a perfect collection of color. Deep red maples, golden buttery oaks, orange elms, and bits of stubborn greens and browns. But even the greens and browns made the woods stunning. Mom and Collette thundered through the quiet hills in the green slug while Mom talked about Scott Hamilton Pie’s Wednesday night class, which included the topic of disunity among the various Christian denominations.
The nursery had just what Collette needed: three hardy red-beaded China Girl Hollies. Ironic, Collette noted to herself. For personal purposes only.
Word had arrived from Carrie-Bri and Elizabeth, both safely stationed in their hostel, inhabited chiefly by Brits (from what Collette gathered). Rose had even caught a snippet of Carrie on IM. She was off to look over jewelry for Rose. Montevideo was on their list for the day. Apparently their lack of fluency in the Spanish tongue somewhat inhibited their communication success. As Carrie had noted in her email:
“We sure had an experience TRYING to order pizza yesterday.”
And for the rest of the afternoon, Puck tumbled around the rug chewing on his chain of colored rings.