We Want Some More

The nights have been colder now, so we hoped the mosquitoes had “disappeared theirselves”, as Puck would put it, and we could once again enjoy the seat from our front porch. Thick swarms of little devils had constantly plagued our attempts throughout the spring and summer. We took tea and books outdoors after nine in the hopes of participating in silver skies and off-and-on rain.

I allowed Puck to conclude his morning artistry project during lunch. When inspiration strikes, I make exception. Apparently today’s eureka was coating his 2011 NLDS Cardinals vs Phillies score sheet with a jungle sunset of colors. Of course the cheese and apples were all coated with purple imprints by the end. I guess a little marker dye won’t take this kid out.

We wanted rain.

After lunch, Puck shimmied into the front-yard tree, which still made him very proud, to clutch after an old birds’ nest too far out of his reach. Until a clap of thunder deadened the east, and I removed him. For a few minutes, the east was a stormy rumble while the west was spread over in gold afternoon sun, like butter. I’m not sure I like the analogy, but it almost hinted at a Thomas Kinkade painting. For just a little while.

Then finally it hit – not huge – but enough to scatter some appreciated rain and an high increase of volume in the boom department.

As I arranged a dinner of chili [with beans], red pepper, pineapple, and hot peach tea for Puck, quarter-sized hail had just fallen.

When The Bear returned from work, he walked around the house schizophrenically talking Civil-War-soldier-letter.

He can be very amusing sometimes.

I also decided that Stanley Tucci is probably my favorite actor. Apparently his first wife’s first husband was the oldest son of the woman who played Marilla in “Anne of Green Gables” – who also apparently passed away from cancer at 67 after refusing surgical procedures due to her Christian Science beliefs.

Weird old world.

Thought of the Day

There are times when I take a few minutes of quiet, all alone. I just sort of sit and stare at things. So sometimes I become distracted with these walls of things. This stuff. So many items and articles invented, created, pieced together by hundreds and thousands of people through millions of events and times, involved and used for some good and helpful – generally – purpose.

Take my room for example. One wall. An antique dresser – wood, varnish, nails, mirror, hand-carving, metal knobs, etc. Instruments – expert craftsmanship, woods, varnish, horse hair, abalone, strings, pegs, even labels. Books and notebooks. Trees, thread, printing, dye, illustrations, other binding materials. Not to mention the red paint, base paints, dry-wall, lumber, nails, etc. composing the wall itself. How many different kinds of trees did it take? Glues, stains, plants, countries, ethnic groups, transportation… How many of the people who put together these many pieces with their own hands – how many of them have died now? Where are they now, if not? What do they look like – all of us like snowflakes. With equally diverse timelines, personalities, and incomplete storybooks. It’s a fascinating old grid.