a gentle tattle

A:  Mom, I've got a funny feeling D's pumping the toilet.

Tantalus

 

My father-in-law once told me to “run fast”. My legs didn’t budge, but my mouth was quick to respond, “I don’t run. Fast or slow.” So you can imagine my dismay at chasing a basketball around a Safeway parking lot on Friday morning at 7:45 am. So much for borrowing Jim’s truck. So much for his Thursday night basketball playing. So much for a peaceful shopping trip without kids (so much for the fact that half of my posts are about grocery shopping). I opened the passenger door to nestle the groceries in, and out jumped the ball. I quickly (okay, Amy-quickly) grappled after it, but every time I neared, my quarry rolled all-the-faster in the “away” direction. It would half-stop, but then pick up speed again with my approach. Forever out of reach. Forever taunting. Irritated, and hardly needing to be mocked by a rogue basketball, I finally stood still. The ball stopped. And I grabbed it.

We dance around in a ring and suppose,

But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.

I’ve often wished that Mr. Frost had continued in full poetic revelation of all the Secrets I long to know...oh to knock on his grave and sit to chat. With no grave access and no answer, I’m left to dance. And dance I do, daily, chasing balls in parking lots, reaching, reaching, forever almost there. Is it as simple as quitting the chase? Still. Stop. Pause. Yes, perhaps there “sits” the Secret…or at least in part.

Right now there are so many secrets I’m seeking to unravel. How do you discipline without crushing? How do you make One of two without losing the You? How do you finish cleaning without having to start again tomorrow? Some momentous, some mundane, all germane.

While I’d love to be handed answers in perfect verse, I somehow know that the secrets are to be answered more individually. Robert Frost’s life Secrets would no doubt differ greatly from my own. I somehow know that mine can only really be answered in the Still of Prayer. I feel the pull to search, grateful I know clearly where, fully realizing that as one dance stops another starts, fully hoping the direction of all the steps combined is Celestial, where all Secrets will be within my reach. Well worth the grapple of the now - bounteous fruit at last in hand.

my morning

Dragon Girl 

 

Spiderman 

Chef Spaghetti 

 

No, I don't want to be Wonder Woman.

Or a knight

Or a cooker.

Mandi (my sister) & Nate left the girls (Savannah & London) at our house this morning while they did a deed that seriously made my day, week and year (any guesses?!).  I may never have girls of my own, but these two come oh so close.  I call them Mine.  And they call me Mimi.

verging into orange

"Where does the violet tint end and the orange tint begin?  Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blending enter into the other.  So with sanity and insanity."  Herman Melville 

 

My keys are lost weekly, if not daily. I sent my dad a big 50th birthday card from Taiwan on his 49th. I frequently wander the house, knowing I got up to do something, yet absolutely incapable of remembering what-in-the-world the something is. I forget diapers & treats (deadly sins of motherhood)…not to mention, times, places & whole conversations. 

People know this about me. They expect it.

But yesterday I surprised even myself. Quick trip to Target. A busy day all around, I hustled my pokey Littles out of the car, fought them into the store and did my deeds. All told, we were probably in store for 20 minutes. We emerged, eager for the on-our-way-Home, to discover that one of the back doors of my vehicle was wide open. Wide as in no-one-could-possibly-park-next-to-me Open. Absent-minded is one thing, but who seriously completely forgets to close the door of their vehicle? Me. I guess. I did lock all the doors, but obviously left out the final nudge on this one.

This picture (& the implications regarding my mental state) alarmed me more than I can say. Frazzled, I got the kids buckled and went to start the car. Dead. More than 20 minutes in Target, perhaps? Did I wander from the list?  I’m truly not sure, but evidently the door was open on the too-long side of safe. I try again. And again. Noooo one wants to call their husband away from work because their car died because they are insane because they left the door open because they blended into Orange while grocery shopping for 20...maybe 30...or was it 40? minutes. 

I had the jumper cables out & ready.  Jim got there (kindly suppressing both exasperation & laughter).  But, the “Of Course” & "Audible Sigh" of the story – he walked past the jumper cables, sat down, turned the key & it started.

answers from A

Me:  Do these pants look okay, or am I too fat?

Aidan:  You have fat AND you are okay.