A nimbus haloes Luna tonight
One star pokes through the clouds

Wet chill hangs pervasive in the air
Hushing the sounds of night

Inside, familiar items
create the warmth of home

Security, memory, relief
the home reflects the heart

It is good to be here, to have now
To taste a bit of heaven

peace

Catastrophic Convergence

Timing, it is said, is everything. How true.

We have finally admitted that neither Joan nor I (nor even Katie or particularly Coby) have a gift for domesticity. We're pretty good at some things. Providing ballast for a sofa, when we had a sofa. Maintaining eye contact with various types of graphical displays. Creating tasks for the dishwashers (both manual and automatic). It is the potential health hazards--stirring up dust we swear we didn't create, fighting Coby's penchant for bringing the outside inside and depositing it on the kitchen floor, and of course the windows--that we zealously eschew.

Today we took matters in our own hands and quickly put them in the hands of others. The Busy Broom, nice folks headed by a personable young entrepreneur named Tom, came on the scene.

Have I ever talked to you about the water in western Howard County? The old timers out here pronounce it H'ard Canty and H'ard pretty much describes the water, too. Folks out here are on wells. Lots and lots of wells sucking the life out of whatever aquifer serves this bit of the Chesapeake watershed. Because this was, and in a perfect world still would be, farmland, there is some stuff in the soil that doesn't occur naturally. Thank you DuPont, Monsanto, and a plethora of others. This has created a wonderful niche for the likes of Culligan, Deer Park, and Water Doctor. The H20 Doctor is our service of choice. They have a tall thin tank in our utility closet. Each year they come out, backwash the tank, turn off the water, turn on the water, collect a check and leave.

This year the Water Doctor and the Busy Broom were in perfect alignment. A nearsighted astrologer will probably tell you there is weighty significance to that. All I'm telling you is that people coming in to remove signs of domestic neglect get serious heart palpitations when they learn they are going to do so without water. Have you ever seen a cat clean itself? That's about the only option they had left. Tom, on top of things but still unsure the other shoe was not already descending, asked me, "We're not going to lose the electricity too, are we?" Thankfully, no.

When life sucks, vacuum. And so they did. The Water Doctor pronounced his patient in fine mettle for another year, presented his bill, and went his merry way. The Busy Broom people had exactly what they needed now to wash this place down. They came, they saw, they mopped, wiped and squeegeed. Now it is quiet, except for Nat King Cole's smooth voice coming out of the speakers. The house smells clean, looks cleaner, and it turns out we are not so slovenly that they are unwilling to return in two weeks. This is alright.

Now, it's back to work. Really. It's a busy time and I must go in to create some more stunning prose that will earn us a new contract. I have no degree, but I'm still armed with my B.S., you know what I'm sayin'? Be well.

Passions in a different eye

I saw the movie "Passion of the Christ" in a different light. I went with a friend last night and throughout the movie I realized and felt the pain he had suffered so we could live. Sitting there I pondered how could life be so unfair and cruel? Also I remembered a person coming up to me and wondering why I never had said God's name in vain. To that person I hope he does see this movie and has a better understanding of why he is here and why I don't say God's name in vain. Once getting home from the movie I grabbed my bible and went outside and read a little and appreciated my life and what he has created. He is above all the greatest. Then I had a thorough chat online with my friend who accompanied me to the movie on what the movie meant to her. I got a wonderful surprise that my wish had come true. For awhile now I had hoped that God would work in her life and help her realize some of the good in the world not the bad. Well once talking to her I found out that she will be praying more and learn to love the people she might hate. I am so thankful she saw this movie and that God answered my wish.

Passion

Just watched "The Passion of the Christ" with family and a friend. I'm not sure how I feel. The wanton cruelty of the Roman soldiers, particularly those administering the initial punishment, clenched my stomach. The pain and indignity that followed still have my stomach in a knot and we left the cinema nearly 30 minutes ago.

I am surprised that we've become so jaded that several of us can sit through such a graphic representation of the horrible things we do to one another and happily munch away on popcorn. This didn't seem to me to be that sort of movie. The message of this screenplay was decidedly not about its entertainment value.

Usually, I will opt for a happy, even nonsensical escapist film. There's sufficient bad news in this world that I prefer to leave it behind when I am laying down my shekels for a movie. Still, I think I can safely suggest this as a viewing option for folks. Not young folks, certainly. What you see will stay with you for quite some time to come. But for those who eschew the book and wait for the movie, I believe the movie is here. And it hits with a punch missing in the prose. You won't likely view it many times, but see it once and let me know how you feel.