Our Little Dust Speck (2014 Journal Entry 5)
I spent countless hours looking out one window or another. One had the vas sweeping view your heart yearns for as you get older, as the twilight years sink into your entire being. So I could not ever say I was unaware of the gift of that great blue sky. I cannot say I didn't appreciate it. I studied it from all angles. I passed it by in my car and in my sleep and on my feet with our countless pets. I enjoyed it. I stress, I enjoyed it.
I prayed in the garden. I talked to God and God talked to me. But, I felt so boxed in. I felt like a pumpkin-dwelling fool sometimes. Every day I know has the things of youth rattled through the rain and others, the blaring sun. I will never forget how good it felt to be in the sun again when it left me by mid-summer. Everything became so lush and then it pushed a little farther and before I knew what had hit me, I was under a dim green shadow. Everything cooled by the rocks. The house was rooted in the rocks just as a good house should be. I often wonder if all houses are somehow.
Not prefabs. Real homes.
It was a truly spectacular thing to bear witness to because it was so obvious. We made the mistakes of not stopping long enough to understand. We just plowed through with so many suggestions of this or that. We tore the belly open and took out all the vital parts. I hate to think we did, but we did. We did not deserve the refuge. It was not a reward. It was one major lesson in homeownership. We took the means to survival and made a joke of it.
Several times we were warned of the dangers of winters there, but we took no heed. There was a space built much like an engine room is built into a ship. We covered up a wall with flimsy something or other. Then we let it all just come together under glue and whims.
Nobody who ever worked on our house ever did the repairs to it that it really needed. We sent a chainsaw kind of mentality to the house and a scalpel to the forest. Maybe it should have been the other way around because, indeed, because of this strange reversal, I started to feel stitched in place. I felt like the needle pulling the thread. I could weave a tapestry here, if I wanted to. I could create our little dust speck.
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