Well, it isn't so bad, other than the garage is leaking again.
"Why is the garage leaking? We haven't had rain or anything for a long time.." That was the realtor, via text message. "Probably because there was snow which melted and puddled and which I just swept off today."..me, return text. "I hate that roof"..ibid, she. "Me too!"..ibid, me.
At ten after six last night the telephone rang. "Hello?"..groggy, still sleepy while on the other end there was the chirpy realtor (it is her job to be chirpy, does she also have to be cute?) "Hey Ruth, there is a showing for tomorrow by someone in my office, do you want it at nine or eleven.".."Hands down, eleven."..(laughter)"I knew you would say that."..and then we chatted for ten minutes before ringing off. For some reason, which now escapes me, I had forgotten that the house was listed. Well, I knew it was listed but, you know, for later, not for tomorrow!
As a child I would fly out of bed, enthusiastic for the day to begin, always the first one awake in the family, wanting to go with my mother to the barn to milk cows, it was always a YES(!!) day...as an adult, this scenario has changed, a bit. And so, slowly, but determinedly, I got out of bed, went downstairs, brewed coffee and began the arduous task of the VERY DEEP CLEAN. For eleven hours with some much needed sleep in the interim and some help from Ray and Dylan in the morning, we cleaned. Until three minutes to eleven, which is when we all departed from the house. Dylan on a bicycle. Ray and I in the car.
"What do you want to do.." (me).
"I don't care". He said and gave me that Ray half-smile.
"Hey, ask Dylan if he's cold"..We were on the outer road of providence (Carter Lane) and Dylan was wearing shorts and a sweater and a hat so Ray rolled down his window "Are you cold?".."I can't hear you." then, deeper and louder, "Are you cold?".."NO!".."okay, bye."
There were two house showings, each an hour and a half apart. We couldn't go home until one-thirty.
South Providence is busy on Saturday afternoon with the cars whizzing past and everyone preoccupied with their own business at the stoplight.
From Green Meadows we swung south onto Providence, no destination. "Lets go wash the car.".."Ok"..And so we went to Castle Carwash and did the automatic wash, chit-chatting while the washer sprays rotated back and forth over the car shaking it slightly. In the midst of talking we decided to go see a movie. "What movie would you like to see, your choice.".."Well they say that 'Shutter Island' is good..it has gotten some good reviews on imdb.." (my son--ahhh). "So, do you want to go see that?"..(him, hesitantly)"Suuure"..."Or, if you want to go see it with your friends we could see something else.".."No, thats okay Mom."
Before the movie we went to Subway and ordered sandwiches without any accoutrements (drinks or chips). After eating, we drove across town to the movie theatre. On the drive we talked about his college plans. What he wants to do with his life. "Its such a big decision mom, I don't want to jump into it.".."Well, you know, there are plenty of people who change directions mid-stream"..We were driving down Stadium, heading east. The sun was warm, shining into the car. We saw Mizzou fans, in black and gold, crossing at an intersection, a man took a woman's hand, I refused to feel sentimental. Slowing for the stoplight at Monk Drive there was a man with a red banner, he was yelling, "Tickets, tickets, you wanna buy tickets?.." to no one in particular. Ray continued the conversation. He wants to farm, he thinks. He has been reading about sustainable agriculture. He understands the hard work. He has been talking to his dad about this. His dad is in soils with the University, but with the school of Engineering. He has been reading things on-line. He wants to work as a farm-hand for someone, to see if he likes it, he isn't sure what he wants to do.
The movie was good. We enjoyed it and talked about it and the nature of insanity on the drive home, how fascinating the mind is, and why some people lose their minds. The possible genetic predisposition to certain forms of mental illness and other factors relating to mental breakdowns, known or suspected, theorized, hypothesized, memorialized. yakadoodle-doo.
Pulling up to the house there were cars. Taylor's and Brian's, friends of Dylan. They were all there. They would tell me about their bicycle riding and about the Mizzou fans yelling at them, angry to have lost the game. We would talk about this, but later. Meanwhile, at the door, before going in, Ray said, "We'll have to tell Dylan what he missed".
addendum: It was later, after Ray had been hanging out with another one of his friends, when he came home, before midnight and stood at my bedroom door, waking me from the edge of sleep and started talking to me about things, concerns and the reason he thought of being a farmer, to become closer to God, to have a better understanding of things, to do something worthwhile. Turning on the light and inviting him to sit on the bed, we talked for some time, I brewed tea and carried it up the stairs on a tray and sat it on the king-sized bed. "Do you want to sleep up here?"..."I don't want to kick you out of your bed."...."Oh honey, I sleep all over the house when you boys are not here anyway, ask Dylan"--(who has found me in his bed sleeping a number of times). "Okay". "okay". And so he slept in my room and I slept in Dylan's (who was spending the night with Taylor and Brian, the latter whose car still sits in front of the house). And this morning (sunday), I woke to the sound of geese on the pond and the grayness of another day.
"'You believe at last!' Jesus answered." John 16:31.