Be Not Idle

Life is short… and art is short.

Before the workers came to install a new sliding glass door, I had to make room for them to work. I took down the vertical blinds. I also moved a free-standing corner shelf.

The shelf worried me. It held a number of ceramic pots containing bamboo, aloe vera, and the ubiquitous philodendron. (I have a theory that all the philodendrons in the area are the offshoots of cuttings taken from one generous, green-thumbed resident of Marine City, Michigan.)

I was nervous when I moved this plant stand, afraid I’d break something in transit. But it stood steady near the stove, out of the way of the work.

That is, until I had to get a glass of water.

Every one of my creations broke, leaving only a store-bought milk-glass compote and a glass frog (a circular glass plate with holes for plant stems).

Was I sad that I lost all the hard work? Sure.

But I wasn’t hurt. (Shocking, I know.) And the aftermath has been positive. With the shelf now empty, I got the idea of taking it to work to serve as a office supply station (works beautifully). With nothing in that corner of the kitchen, more light comes through the new door.

If I wish, I can make other bowls and vases. And I’ve gotten better, so the new will be more beautiful than the old. Unless I drop them….eek!

For the second time in my life, I won something in a contest. The first time was a door prize: a clock radio.

This time, I came home to find a special delivery between the storm door and the main door. I’m lucky I didn’t trip over it.

I had entered a drawing sponsored by Coca-Cola and won a $100 grocery gift card. Of course, I started thinking someone else could use it. There’s my friend who lost her job and, because she had been cut to part-time already, won’t be getting unemployment. I bet she’ll refuse, though. Or I could put it towards the next canned food drive for the local food pantry. 

…into a wall.

It happened this evening when I woke up from the fourth or fifth of my long naps throughout the day. I’ve been ill, probably food poisoning, and I’m not quite myself yet.

I decided to lie down in the guestroom because it was a little cooler there. So when I awoke, I was discombobulated. I turned the wrong way and smacked my little toe – my little broken toe – against a wall.

I didn’t exactly wake up even at that point. It was like an out-of-body experience but the only “light” was a fire in my foot. And I definitely didn’t want to be anywhere near it, let alone “go into” it. And there seemed to be words spontaneously coming from my mouth, but it definitely wasn’t a charismatic event.

So now I’m awake and repenting of whatever I said when I hurt myself. I remember quite distinctly when Father Castenier, the priest of my childhood, told all us children that we must make a good Examination of Conscience but also that absolution would include any sins we might have forgotten. This is definitely one of those situations.

Postscript to my fellow Abbott and Costello fans: Niagara Falls!