Ventotto

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Collette awoke to the crash of thunder – it might be a perfect day.

It seemed as though for the world, according to the radio, that all eyes were fixed on Wall Street that morning.

Collette called over to Rose before she left for Spanish, to give her her assignments for the day. The call was typical:

“Meow! Meow!”

“Hi, Rose. Was that Pumpkin or Snuggles?”

“Pumpkin. Snuggles doesn’t meow.”

“Well, get a pen and paper so you can take down your assignments.”

In the background:

“Mew!”

“Rose!”

“I’m not trying to!”

Pause…

“Do you have a pen? You have my pen! Good grief! Taking all my pens…”

Still in the background, a tea kettle was whistling.

“No, Dad, keep it on the heat!”

“Get my shoes off now! Francis is always putting on my shoes with his stinky feet.”

This was Rose talking.

“Mom just told me to hush,” she said to Collette.

Finally, the assignment was given.

And the rain tumbled outside only briefly on that last cool day in February.

Shepherd, OLeif, Buster, and Carrie-Bri all dropped by for lunch that afternoon. The guys seemed to be discussing programming from the kitchen (which was typical) and Carrie talked about New Zealand real estate, irate customers, and missing class textbooks.

Later in the day, the air was fresh and spring-like. Collette wished the backyard was still not so full of mud. Otherwise, she would have gone out for awhile.

Come evening, Francis headed out with the rest of the junior high to the Adrenaline Zone and Demolition Ball. Collette wasn’t exactly sure what an Adrenaline Zone was, but it sounded like one of the boys’ caffeine parties, or something created just to make kids wild and crazy, and for no other reason.

In the end, OLeif decided not to attend the outing as a leader. And he and Collette went to look at cribs instead. Not exactly a thrilling evening, but it had to be done. Collette waited for OLeif to finish his dinner so that they could leave. It was brats cooked in red wine on the menu that night (OLeif’s idea, which only he ate). Wine: that inevitable sour bread smell – while he giggled over the television.

In other news, Collette had decided that the time had finally come to lay her old Flags of the World t-shirt, to rest. Her family had given it to her for her fourteenth birthday. And back in the day, it had been practically her most favorite shirt to wear. The back was plastered in every cataloged flag of the modern world. But in the past two years or so, it had developed a crop of wear and tear holes (most of which had formed between the rows of flags). And so that evening, out came a little pair of scissors, and Collette began to cut out each surviving flag, which included nearly every one except for South Korea, Israel, and the Canary Islands. She decided that maybe later she would paste them on a journal cover. They were all a little faded after eight years of wear, which included everything from travels under a Hungarian sun and hikes in the Tetons, to summers on Six Flags roller coasters. It had served its purpose well.