Views from Annie's Cabin

miscellaneous musings on aging and living and loving

HOLIDAY—WORK DAY

HOLIDAY—WORK DAY

Good, bad, and in between. Father’s Day. For my husband who’s still a father on this good earth.

IMG_0150River & Rocks

Up at the crack of dawn because I had my buddy coming up at 7:00 to help stabilize my new rock patio. He was on time and ready to go but general consensus around here was that we’d better hold off for a while and think it through more-better. It’s just a mess of rocks laid out over an uneven ground so it kind of rocks and rolls and I was going to have him fill in between all the rocks with river sand—primarily to discourage the snakes who might find living under a couple hundred cool damp rocks to their summer liking. And we went round and round about the pros and cons of this that and the other, so I finally asked my buddy to split some wood for winter kindling instead. Which needed to be done, too, but wasn’t nearly as satisfying a project…..Alas, he too, had his opinion on the rock patio and it aligned with both the other men’s!   So the day began with defeat. And I’m prone to sulking a bit when I meet with defeat…..

But then the day got wonderful. We drove down the mountain to church in Greenville, at my old home church where all my folks are resting, and where both my husband and I’ll rest beside them one day ourselves. Service in the chapel by the new retired, volunteer priest—-whom we went particularly to see and hear. Lifted and gladdened our hearts. Filled me up and smoothed out the rough edgy ripples of the morning.

Then onward to a noisy crowded lunch gathering for Father’s Day—parents, grandparents, children, and various other allied family members from all over the world it seemed. And a Bloody Mary bar—where they bring your choice of vodka to the table and then steer you up to the bar where you “build” whatever you want. Pretty amazing. Cold glasses with condensation all up and down them, slippery as an eel. And after I’d built a real blushing beauty, complete with olives stuffed with feta and blue cheese (!) one of the more enthusiastic of our party encircled me in a great big bear hug and all of a sudden CRASH! BANG! SHATTER! SPLASH!—- my glass flew out of my hand and hit the cement floor like a huge wet red atomic bomb. Lovely. But my partner-in-crime actually saved the moment by saying” well I guess this means—-Let the party begin!” I was horrified and chagrined but no one’s dress was ruined and the mess was cleaned up in a heartbeat and no one was hurt. But I couldn’t help thinking, maybe I should’ve stayed in bed this Sunday morning and slept in late to welcome the sun when he was fully up and not just a dark whisper of a promise, and then maybe I’d not have had such a fussy hissy-fit but rather a sweet calm laid-back day.

Then I remembered the heart-swelling service this morning. The readings, the Gospel, the hymns, the sermon, and I realized I would have missed the most heart- soothing part of the day—of Life really—the part that always smooths out the jagged edges of day-to-day living. And I said to myself (again), “Self, this is important for you to remember…..Now, Looky heah, chile, I been telling you to Control less and Pray more. And you see—I ain’t alone! Now will you just lissen up?!” And nodding meekly in agreement, I sighed a big breathy sigh and coasted smoothly up the mountain and through the rest of my Sunday….floating on the wings of prayer.

SAM_0090

 

 

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