I saw that on a Green Bay Packers shirt with a picture of Lambeau
Field in snow.
Cool, I thought.
Yeah, baby – the Frozen Tundra.
Then someone told me it was a take on a line from a TV show on a
cable network we don’t have. And
that Aaron Rodgers, the QB with the MVP, had designed it to play off of the line from the show.
Oh.
Well. Still a cool shirt.
And yes, it’s comin’ to the Little-House-On-The-Corner. As per yesterday’s discussion.
The Wife looked at me over her cup of tea (yeah, opposites attract) and stated what we had both been
thinking.
“We’re not ready for winter.”
“Yeah.”
“Minimal firewood, freezer not even half-full…”
“Yeah.”
“Tax money not saved up, woodstove and chimney not overhauled…”
“Yeah.”
She set down the cup and leaned forward, kinda squinting her eyes.
“So?”
I then realized that these were not merely observations, like “Huh, did you know you can save 15% in 15 minutes?”.
No, she actually wanted some action plan.
Now.
Right now.
I took a long pull of the Elixir of Knowledge, hoping the caffeine would jar loose some profundity.
“Uh. We, ah, take a sabbatical to
Florida?”
Really. A half-cup slurp and that’s the best I get?
And, of course, the simple elegance of the plan was lost in the
ensuing discussion.
Yeah.
We’re not ready for winter.
But there’s time.
Things go on sale and can be frozen. Firewood can be delivered.
One Saturday morning will take care the woodstove and chimney. Tax money saved up?
(A quick Ponzi scheme maybe?)
Okay. I’m working on that one.
But there’s time.
We know winter’s comin’ and we know the approximate time of its
arrival.
We’ll handle it. We'll be ready.
This morning I’m sitting here in the predawn dark, watching the
horizon turn slowly into the promise of day. The Elixir of Knowledge erodes the
somewhere-in-the-ball-park remembrance of verse I’d
heard.
“Don’t let that day surprise you like a thief in the night.”
Huh.
Yeah. Ya can't really be ready for surprises. That's what makes them surprises, right?
Another pull on the Elixir pushes up another thought.
So what might surprise me?
Oh. Yeah. That’s right.
The stuff I ignore. Kinda like getting ready for winter. Or not setting the timer for the pizza.
(But that's why God allowed the invention of smoke alarms.)
That’s the stuff that comes back to bite me in the biscuits.
The stuff I chose to ignore.
Like those idiot lights on Phelgm the Taurus’ dash. When they light up, they require action.
And the action could be to stick little pieces of black electrical tape over ‘em.
Not that I have done that.
Recently.
But it does help take away the anxiety.
And hey, what’s the worst that can happen?
I mean really?
Sooooooo. What do I ignore?
I settle back into the
Chair and sip the Elixir and…
fall asleep.
And dream...
Oh my.
Really.
I'm holding a list that is like one of those scrolls that unrolls
to the length of a football field.
After speed-reading the first thirty feet or so, I realize that
the really important stuff is the eternal, infinite, and internal.
Heavy stuff.
Requiring big actions that would change a lifestyle.
That would change a life.
That would change eternity.
Wow.
I start to walk to the other end of the scroll.
But hey. If I start from this other end, I can work on the kinda fun, easy stuff.
That temporal, finite, and external
stuff.
Oh, yeah, baby.
The “Things/Bling/Flings” end of
the scroll.
Easy-peasy.
I’ll just reroll the scroll and then tape it up good so the
heavy stuff can't unroll.
And, wow! Phlegm the Taurus is parked right next to the scroll.
And there's the electrical tape, right where I left it in Phlegm’s glove box.
The decision made and the scroll taped securely, I relax into the Dream.
OK, I feel a little uneasy but if I concentrate on this end of the scroll it's easy to forget that other stuff. Focus on this end.
Bling, things, and flings.
Fun, fun, fun.
Doin' the easy-peasy stuff and lettin’ that heavy stuff
sliiiiiiiiiiiiiide.
Hey-what’s the worst that can happen?
I mean...really?
What the -