A Very Good Day

The loud-mouthed-rooster crowed at 6:30 a.m. this morning to wake the world (actually it was Fritz, very sweetly telling me it was time to get up). The calm lake seemed hushed and almost primeval in the pre-dawn light – a serene welcome to the new day. I unloaded the frig (again), packed up the coolers (again), threw our “stuff” in boxes, loaded the car (again), and we headed south by about 7:15. It rained cats and dogs much of the trip; our windshield wipers protested by banging into each other and bending at ouchy-looking angles. Thwap-thwap, thwap-thwap, thwaaa-chunk-ap, thwap-thwap. Fortunately those wipers were real troopers and loyally performed their task until we got home - despite their crippled arms and suffering.

I sipped freshly extracted carrot juice (which made me happy) and Fritz stopped at Burger King for fast-food-gut-buster-breakfast (which made him happy). He’s convinced BK’s breakfast meals are less greasy than McD’s. Personally, I doubt it. But if it makes him feel better about eating junk (excuse me), then so be it.

We talked a lot, mostly about our BSF curriculum this year, things like obedience and blessing and related thoughts/applications. Good stuff.

Upon arrival in Buck Creek, I donned the blobby, generously-bespeckled paint clothes I used last week while painting, grabbed the paint can (again), the brushes and roller (again), and started stroking away. Ah yes, the familiar zing of carpal tunnel greeted me warmly. (My hands know they’ve been working hard lately.) BUT wonder-of-wonders, the leprous walls with their ugly spots responded nicely to my prime-coat therapy before we left last time, and I was encouraged to finally see the real color spread smoothly across the wall. The almost-finished product is beginning to look quite nice. That’s sooooo encouraging.

It was helpful to have a recreational activity after all of that, namely making HUGE cinnamon rolls for the kids in Freddy’s lab class at Purdue tomorrow. Honestly, I enjoyed the rolling out and rolling up; the slicing, rising, baking, and resultant SMELLS. There’s nothing like working out your inner aggressions with a rolling pin. I think it even beats a punching bag, and certainly is better than slamming cabinet doors or stomping around the house (now WHO would do such things?). I didn’t eat any or even lick frosting from my finger, and felt quite disciplined.

I hereby dub today A Very Good Day.