Monday, September 12, 2011

The Hum of Life

The younger generation! I can’t keep up with them, nor would I want to try, physically, but it even boggles my mind just thinking about it. One grandson has just returned from a spectacular, heart-stopping climb in the Peruvian mountains. I had forgotten it was this week, so I was spared the worry of his adventure. The area was a four-day climb in just getting there. I can’t wait to see his pictures.

His cousin, a drama major in college, has struck out for New York City to find fame and fortune. He had his first casting call today, after braving the perils of the unknown in finding a room, being locked out, and frightening his mother out of her wits at the thought of him alone and vulnerable in our country’s largest city.

Our youngest son and his family have been touring the West coast for the past two weeks, seeing everything from the original Starbucks in Seattle to Disneyland in Anaheim. Although knowing they were keeping the trip necessarily tame with two tots in tow, I was unsettled to learn of a massive blackout in areas they were headed. Thankfully, power was restored just before their arrival. They should be home tomorrow, praise the Lord!

Our granddaughter, married earlier this year and expecting her first baby, experienced alarming symptoms tonight and headed to the ER. A flurry of communications set us praying, although the crisis was mostly past by the time we heard about it. Turns out mother and baby are doing fine, and we should be welcoming a strapping baby boy in a few months.

Even my daughter-in-law tackles challenges fearlessly. She has gone to spend the night in a cabin at a camp with members of civic organizations to learn team work by, among other things, participating in a ropes course. Never mind that she has just returned from a week-end church retreat at a rustic, cowboy frontier town. Where does she get her energy? I suppose by doing those energizing things.

My domestic life is dull by comparison, with the highlight of my day being having a plumber out to fix recalcitrant pipes. I felt like Hilly, from The Help, when they deposited our commode on the front lawn so they could go in the back door, so to speak, to remove a foreign object that was slowing things down. The rod in our tissue holder had unaccountably sprang from the wall and disappeared, and after searching the room from top to bottom, we could only conclude, with the evidence of impaired flushing, that it had lodged unseen in the depths of the porcelain fixture. No amount of fishing or plunging could locate it though, until the professionals removed the offending cylinder.

My life may be dull, but that’s okay, it is also peaceful; and there is a certain vicarious pleasure in knowing of the activities of the jet-setters and newly weds. Just don’t ask me to climb any mountains!

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