Wrapping it Up

Thursday, December 29, 2011
In which another day of work is completed in time to celebrate the last days of the year…

As the 5:32 alarm rang, Collette mentally prepared for the day. Her hands still smelled like onions from the chopping board in the kitchen the previous afternoon.
45 minutes later, Puck, ready to march out the door, noticed a few stray ornaments in his Cardinals tote.
“Bumbling bumblebees! How’d that get in there?”
He sighed, dug into the bag, and replaced them on the tree. Then he opened the front door to the mild dark winds of the morning…
“I wonder if Grandpa’s back,” he said thoughtfully. “I think he’s in Africa.”
And he walked out to the car.

Back by 6:50 at the office once more, Collette spent the first half of the day drilling out 240 bulletins.
A jar of packaged red homemade Christmas pear honey was sitting on Babe Ruth’s desk (a.k.a. Collette’s old desk).
There was a high of 59 in the forecast.
Someone had left a full sleeve of cheesy popcorn on the copier room island.
After Babe Ruth had taken care of all his paperwork, phone calls, checks, etc., he struck up to the roof to dally in some repair work in the balmy afternoon.
And the same sort of lethargic heaviness hung over everything as usual.

Back on the ranch, Puck had spent an afternoon of building tanks out of spindly bricks. There were also dried apricots and picture books of caves from the 60’s.
Mom was chaperoning two hours of ice skating and the snack bar.
Carrie whirled out several soups and stocks and threw together a sausage, potato, and cheese casserole for dinner, leaving the onion soup and homemade applesauce for later, before breaking up a bunny row and meeting Adam at the St. Charles Coffee House.
Francis was lifeguarding.
Puck dictated and colored thank you notes.
Joe was leaving with Magnus and maybe Curly for Rose’s for the evening.
Collette washed up the kitchen, printed up papers for Great Uncle Harry, attempted to sew a button on Joe’s cargoes (apparently there wasn’t a single needle or spool of thread in the house), and discussed serious church matters in depth with Dad.
Another pick-up by OLeif after sharing dinner with the family, during which childhood dreams were discussed.
“Francis always wanted to be a garbageman.”
“I wanted to be Johnny Quest,” said Dad.
“I want to be a lamp,” added Puck.