early last Monday morn. During the summer Sean (as mentioned passim) helped transform my yard from a sterile place without hope into a garden of happiness and abundance. We hung wind chimes that tingled and tangled and rang with mellow vibes. However, last Monday at four am a wind rose up, a strong wind, a biblical wind, a wind of vengeance and wrath. This wrathful wind swirled and cantered and brushed and beat and wrenched and rang changes through those summer chimes that were particularly annoying because I never shut my bedroom door and rarely shut the bathroom window located as it is above the yard.
The previous evening I watched 'Manon des sources' a film about betrayal and revenge in rural France.
Nevertheless triumph also visited my home in those early hours with my partner in the female ice doubles when arms raised and bodies extended we skated with grace and poise, spinning once, spinning twice, spinning three and then four times through a faultless loop that reversed into the centre of a barn filled with grain dryers. We held the position... we held the audience... we waited for the... applause, but instead of bliss we got bells and I woke up.
Currently the chimes are in my kitchen where I suspect they'll remain until next summer.
Damn, and we were looking at Gold too.
6 comments:
Oh hell's bells, what a wind.
I keep wondering about that crack in your bathroom wall now.
good point, gg. does the crack funnel great drafts of wind into the room? or is it a surface crack that only leads into the walls interior, where small dark creatures lurk?
in my nightmares I'd see a row of mouse heads lined up peeping out of the crack.
I detest mice.
G,
Ah, the crack. I'd rather forgotten about the crack during the terrible kerfuffle with the wind. Hmm, note to self, madness can be subdued by natural disasters...
Hayden you bugger! I'd not thought of mice lined up to spy on my ablutions. And what pray are these small dark creatures you've suddenly introduced into the conversation, hmmmm? I demand to be told.
dan, one never knows what lurks inside the walls. you hear them, now and then, when the house is still. A sudden creak, a rustling sound, was that the sound of chewing?
one fall we brought my gran home after a weekend with us, and found her parlor ceiling caved in and mess everywhere. Inside her walls had crept red squirrels, and the squirrels had stolen the bushel of black walnuts she'd harvested and hidden them in the ceiling.
one winter night I sat doing homework at my dad's desk: I looked down just in time to see a bat squeezing his head through the cold air return and come scrambling and flapping into the room. There were black smut spots on the walls where he smashed into them as my mother, sister and I screamed and chased him with brooms.
you just never know.
of course, the thing with a crack, is it provides a route for them to come out of the deep hidden fortress of the walls' interior, but still doesn't let you see in.
Hayden,
Bats in the bellfry would be bad enough but bats in the bedroom, wow.
I'm gonna stop talking to you about these cracks and the universe they may or may not hide. I've posted a photo of my bathroom that looks peaceful and passive. Plus I've some joss sticks and a mantra to cleanse the walls and cracks of threats, sprites and other harmfull things. Oh yeah, and trolls too.
The mantra works by repeating in a sonorous tone the phrase "Get out of my wall you sneaky bastards begone." I bought it in our local supermarket from the same aisle as the stuff that makes your whites whiter. It was advertised as of Troll strength which I presume is a good thing.
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