Sunday, July 16, 2006

Using The Tools God Gave Us




It's probably good for you, right?


Yesterday we got a knock on our door from Mary, who "met" my wife through her blog. Mary lives up in Washington and she'd warned us that she was going to be down in our neck of the woods, so it wasn't a huge shock to see her; I mean, when I opened the door I knew it had to be her and it was great to see her.

Here's a snippet:

"How'd you know where to find us?"

"Oh, I just got in the car and drove around. I figured I'd know it when I saw it. So when I saw this house,
I said to myself 'this must be the place' and I knocked on the door."


Later we had dinner with her and her two daughters and her husband and brother in law and the brother-in-law's girlfriend. We ate at this little Italian joint by the post office and yammered at each other over beer and wine and pizza and scampi and seafood ravioli.

It was about the sweetest thing ever.


After dinner we all walked back to our house and hung out for a little bit. The dogs jumped all over everyone and were generally spastic and ill-mannered (like their owners?). Mary's youngest ran all around the garden squealing and saying "Mom, lookit this garden! Poppa, poppa, look!"

I'd never seen a little girl smitten with a garden before.


Each one of them was like a wonderful present to open. They were so open and kind and easy-going and odd and interesting and sweet that I just about couldn't stand it. It was like being in a museum of masterpieces of the human being. Everybody shining with this tender, ethereal light.

It was coming out of their pores, glowing like honey.


I am glad to be alive, right here, right now.

It's some kind of miracle.


I am glad you are here, too, reading this. I hope you get a little jolt right in your heart from being here, a wide-openness that invades your insides and washes over you.

Now get up and go to the window and look out and look out and look out.

Can you see me?

I'm waving.

Hello or goodbye, it doesn't matter.



Blogger deirdre said...



4:03 PM  
Blogger LKD said...

My dear, every little girl falls deeply in love with a garden, a tree, a field, a horse, a forest, an ocean.

Me? The last two. I feel so in love with the woods and the waves. Ah, I miss those days.

Your post is lovely. It lifts my spirts and honestly, my spirits didn't need a bit of lifting on this hot mothy day. (shhh....I feel a poem whispering in my ear)

Your post reminds me of that scene from the movie Network in which the elderly news anchor encourages all the viewers to unplug their televisions, lug them to the window and toss them out onto the street, shouting:

I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!!!

I can't see you, sir, but I'll wave anyway.

Romantical. I love that word.

4:29 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

I think if you squint and look over there past the deadfall tree behind Gusterson's place you'll see me.

Still waving.

7:32 AM  
Blogger MPR said...

cool poem. i'm not waiving, but it did warm me a bit and i'm a pretty cold stick sometimes.


7:16 PM  

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