Train Catcher
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Tuesday night, Collette and Linnea were trying to get to sleep. All was quiet for several moments when Linnea pointed to the dream catcher hanging in the dark from the bunk bed.
“I wonder why this train catcher hasn’t worked yet?” She asked.
Collette then started laughing: “Train catcher?”
She thought that perhaps Carrie had convinced Linnea it was a train catcher and not a dream catcher.
“No!” Linnea laughed. “Dream catcher, not train catcher!”
They giggled a full minute over the misunderstanding and finally fell asleep. Carrie returned to join them after midnight, just returning from the Loop.
For breakfast, Wednesday, Mom made crusty brown grain rolls and berry yogurt smoothies. The basement was coming quite well, the couch and recliner, sound system cabinet, book shelf, cedar chest, the ancient plant stand, and storage cabinets… the painting of the walls, though splotchy and mis-matched, it would work for the present purposes.
The beginnings of a storm rolled in at near three that afternoon, as Collette was finishing the basement and Carrie was just leaving for work. Lucia would still meet them with Elizabeth for coffee that night and to spend the night, provided work did not last too late for Carrie.
And then, just as Carrie drove down the road, wild rain and thunder, winds from the north… Microbursts in excess of 60 mph barraged the house until branches lay everywhere, the lawn, marigolds, and tomato plant were sufficiently flattened, and the girl kitties and Troops tried to hide in the basement from the intense crash of the thunder.
Meanwhile, Collette thought she might like to study the Constitution.
Once it passed, Mom and Collette began shoveling over the dropped branches to the bonfire and Denae pulled up in the red van to drop off Francis. As she helped them, another batch of clouds loomed in from the northwest. And they soon went back inside, Collette to the unfinished painting in the basement, joined by Linnea.
“Let’s have Snuggles make paw prints with paint on the walls,” Linnea suggested happily, lifting the poor beast up under his front legs.
“I don’t think so, Linnea,” Collette continued to paint.
“Oh, come on,” Linnea urged. “See? He’s begging you.” She grinned mischievously, holding the yellow kitty up to Collette’s face.
“No, Linnea, put him away,” Collette was unmoved.
“Oh, please! He’s so cute!” Linnea said, dropping the cat to the floor.
But there would be no painted cat’s paws on the walls. Not after everything was finished, except for the vacuuming, which might take awhile as the vacuum had just broken. And then the small bit of painting remaining… It was a good month’s work, and Collette was happy to just about be finished with the whole ordeal. Dad had promised her a steak dinner in return, which was tasty compensation enough. Plus the fact that Mom would finally venture into the basement after six months of hardly setting foot on the top stair.