A Rainbow of Carrots and a Lack of Planning

Saturday seemed to be one of those no good very bad days. At least that is what I was making it out to be. As much as I love an adventure, the lack of sleep, a fussy baby, packing to move to a new state, and other such arrangements, made an adventure seem like the most unlikely way to go about the day. George knew this wasn't what I was digging. A simple day at home seemed good, but we do have a house in Gainesville that we are residing and renting and we do need to see that all of that happens and soon. I didn't really go with gladness in my heart and I didn't show any sort of enthusiasm for a day at a house under construction with three children and very little planning for food, naps, etc. But the children did get to swim at a friends and they got to help their daddy power wash. And everyone was having a pretty dandy time. Well, not me. I wasn't going to let that happen.

And then, when the work day was done, there was the blue grass jam next to a gurgling stream perfect for little toes. And there was amazing music and a massive low country boil and the biggest bon fire I've ever seen. But I was mad and William was fussy and we didn't come prepared and George didn't seem to be bothered at all by any of this. So I stayed bothered. I felt like there couldn't be anything more dreadful than what we were experiencing although it was about the best day on earth for the children and it was one of George's favorite places to make music. There were some things that George could have taken into account, including his wife's feelings and need for sleep, a place to sleep, a place for the dogs and a break from a fussy baby, but his wife could have been more gracious and less hateful.

We came home. We slept. Sunday was quiet and healing. William took some good naps. There was church (although lately I don't get much of it for diapers and nursing and naps and fussing). We ate out for lunch and I made chocolate chip cookies. George put out a hammock, I took the children for a bike ride in the neighborhood while William dozed in the stroller and George rested.

He would need his rest. You see, while he was in the hospital, he made friends with everyone. He befriended his nurse. She attends New Jerusalem Baptist Church. George had all of his instruments in his room with him. Some conversations led to an invitation to come and sing. Well, that was tonight. George said he would take Amelia and George Wilder. I didn't think this was a good idea. Afterall, the lack of planning over the weekend was getting to me. Well, I sent all of them away with a bag of pretzels and a half bag of trail mix. It was 4:30. At 8:00 p.m. they returned. William had finally dozed off to sleep so we sat down for dinner. The children told stories of their adventure.

It involved a man with a garden (next to the church) with purple and white carrots whose wife was an amazing hola hooper. That is why they came home with a head of cabbage. Then, they of course had stories from the service. Lots of hand clapping and "Amens". It was loud and the music was the only thing louder than the pastor. And George sang and people clapped and shouted and praised. George sang some songs with his acoustic guitar and our friend Jessica sang with him and the musicians cued the audience to applaud with loud shouts at the end of each song. And the man behind them had a loud and boisterous and amazingly rythmical clap.

And as they told the story of their evening, I smiled and drank some wine and listened. George lives an adventure. It might not always involve planning, but it involves a dance with opportunity and invention and a love for mankind.

After dinner (at 8:30) George Wilder declared he might like to sleep in the hammock outside. William woke up and discovered George's wrenches are great for teething on and Amelia thought George Wilder might need some company outside so the tent should go up. An hour later, William is back asleep in his crib (in the house, not outside like some people in the family suggested) George Wilder is asleep in a hammock outside and George and Amelia are cozied up in the tent right next to our swinging sleeping son. 

This isn't what I expected, but I never really know what to expect. I like this (most of the time). I have to admit that lately I've not wanted an adventure. I've wanted a cookie cutter day. That may never happen in our lives and that is what I love about it, but I certainly have not shown much love for it lately. Moving leaves us raw. The exposedness of closest and shelves and cabinets. The tossing away, the decisions on what to keep and take. The investment that seems like waste.

I guess this is a bit of a confession. A confession that I can't often find the gear that takes me out of fear and worry and self absorption. When I grind to find it, it is such a nasty sound. There is every opportunity to walk this walk with joy, and I often try other ways and they are ugly and so very corrosive. Now, tomorrow is new. There will be something adventurous to tackle, and because we are blessed with so much (Amelia asked us today what "poor" meant) I will strive to not have a poor attitude but one with wealth and life.


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