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Spelshol to Me

April 25, 2006


A beautiful day wasted away by inside. Work. It took my whole day ‘sides the time between shifts–I so thankfully adore that time, cherish it really. Usually go out to the park and recoup, collect my thoughts, release, smell the fresh air. What a glorious day it was. I suppose it could be worse…I at least can open the door to my tiny little booth and enjoy the breeze (just not so much the car fumes).

The crowd parted like the sea, flowing to the left and right in both directions around the booth. I always feel a little claustrophoebic during the rush, especially in Koldus when I’m surrounded by strangers all ’round. I’m appreciative of the thick glass, yet sometimes I feel like a caged animal being gawked at (should I perform a trick?). Tonight I realized how much the “fast paced, hurry-hurry, rush” mentality of America irritates me like no other. Clearly, there is no where to rush to ‘cept some long line of cars to wait in to exit the garage. O hurry now. I wonder what we’re all in such a hurry for. We rushin’ to our death or what? The plight of man. The people’s impatience makes my own blood pressure rise. Everyone’s in such a tizzy, frantic ’bout somethin’ I don’t know. She asks me a question and then starts to walk off ‘fore I can even answer…what kind of no good treatin’ is that? Seriously. My patience was tested tonight–mainly the impatience of others just irritating me. I suppose impatient wouldn’t be the correct word to describe me but rather perturbed by the fact that everyone’s in such a dang hurry to get through this life. Take some time to enjoy the moment. Smell the roses. Have that conversation. What’s the big idea? Everything’s gotta be microwaved these days. That just floors me. Wigged–I think that’s what could express how I feel about the mentality of Hasty Americans. Okay, enough ranting. Something I do like, however, is to people watch. So in all of this madness I can chuckle as I watch the little idiosyncrasies and mannerisms of people. And honestly, I can and do pray for these ruthless, rat-race people.

Besides the aforementioned, I did accomplish a lot today. And inbetween shifts I did have the amazing opportunity to dazzle in the marvelous sun–o and blue sky it was today! …I was thinking today of our garden at home–in a sad state since the winter days…I was taken back to some earlier years….Hmm…honeysuckles and hibiscus. Two of my favorites. I remember the days when I’d scurry out to the field and ravage the honeysuckles. I’d suck every last drop from them, getting that sweetness in me any way I could. The smell surrounded me like a blanket and yellow lit up my eyes. …I also remember planting hibiscus. When I realized I wasn’t going to be able to dig a hole to China (seriously), I had my dad drive me to the plant place so I could put my digging to use. I had quite a green thumb then. Hibiscus was always one of my favorite flowers. Probably because they’re so exotic…tropical…and just glorious. Walking to the door, I’d pass a thick wall of hibiscus bushes, at least three feet past the point I stood. Nothing too special ’bout the place save walking the distance from the driveway to the door, for a tunnel of brilliant red hibiscus towered over, enclosing me. A secret garden of sorts– so I thought.

A few years back I found a little poem book I kept when I was in the early years of elementary–shoved under the cushions of our couch (a likely story). Stumbled across it again tonight. It’s endearing to know I’ve always been a sucker for words, the whole art of words coming together gracefully to create something profound, expressing something of the heart.

The works of a child:

“Pomes, Dyanne’s Pome Book”

Night is a time to sleep
Night is a time to look at the blue sky
Night is a time to fly in the sky
Night is the time to look at the biggest stars
Night is the time to fly in your dreams

Harts are vrey beautiful.
And spelshol.
You have one that has Jesus in it.
And harts are yuost on Valintines day.

[“Hook-ed on fffonics work-edd for mmmeee!]

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