If only I could get this mural done!
The world is out there waiting with its fun.
I’ve friends to greet and meals to eat
and sweepstakes to be won,
If only I could get this mural done.
If only I could get this mural done,
I’d catch the final romance of the sun.
I’ve leaves to rake and bags to take
to goodwill or some one
If only I could get this mural done.
If only I could get this mural done
I’d finish other projects I’ve begun
I’ve soup to make and bread to bake
And recipes – a ton.
If only I could get this mural done.
If only I could get this mural done!
I’d spend awhile with my aged mum
I’ve tales to spin, art to begin
Ideas that die alone,
While I must work to get this mural done. DW 2006
This mosaic wall is 5 ft by 8 ft tall and when completed will be composed of glass, rock and shell with a black grout in the glass area. At about 6 ft it will be broken up by a shelf and hopefully a waterfall. I must complete it to move my aquarium out of my bathroom where it has resided for a little over a year. I've played with it for almost a month and have worked seriously since I returned from my trip to the southwest between classes, firing, home, meetings and blogging. It's moving a little faster now that I'm into the glass phase.
We're going to be gone about 9 or 10 days starting in a few hours. So I planned to create a condo for my kitten so he won't get too bored staying here and just seeing a human once or maybe twice a day. So that's what you see above. His tent and his condo in the making and then at it's present mostly finished stage.
So I guess I'll see you guys later, unless one of our reservations should happen to have wi-fi in the room. Not a likely. Some of those places don't even have cell phone service.
Peace, grace and don't mess the world up too much while I'm gone. I'll have pictures and stories when I return.
Today we went to another town, to the home of people we don’t know and attended a barbeque in honor of my grandson who will be leaving Wednesday for navy basic training in Michigan. There he was, standing tall, posing for pictures with bunches of different people. There he was, sitting with his arm around his girlfriend, laughing and joking in a not quite shy grown up manner. There he was cutting a huge cake that looked like an American flag. He hugged me long and hard before we left and I saw a wetness in the big boy eyes.
For the last month, he’s come to see me at least once a week and we have laughed and dreamed and discussed. He gave me his kitten. Well, it wasn’t his technically, but he had adopted it out of their cat’s last litter and he knew he couldn’t take it with him. So, when he learned I wanted a yellow cat, he brought it to me without remorse. Last week, he sat in the floor playing with the cat and his (the cat’s) Barbie tent while I finished with my art students.
When he was small, he was gramma’s boy. I have so many memories, so many pictures. His birthday is 2 years and 2 days after my youngest daughter’s. When they were little, they were together so much and were so close to the same size, coloring and general appearance that people assumed they were twins. We always celebrated birthdays together. My daughter and family came to our house a lot. Gramma loved her Jonny and Jon loved his gramma.
I took him to his first large art museum when he was 5. That night he was talking to daddy and told him about the museum with great intellectual excitement. He finished by saying “Oh, yeah, and I saw a great big statue of a guy who didn’t have any arms, but he had a great big penus.” We were all shocked, but laughed at the workings of a 5 year old male mind.
On that same trip, he and Amanda loved the hotel swimming pool, which was a little on the cool side, and loved it so much their skinny little bodies both turned a shade of blue. Noticing this, I called them over to the not quite hot tub I was sitting in to get their body temps up. Jon stood on the side looking at me in horror refusing to come in. Amanda a little slow to respond came and got in, dog paddling to my side. Finally after insisting, Jon came gingerly toward me big tears in his eyes. He thought it was boiling.
He was in early elementary when, during a family visit, he was helping me in the kitchen. His brother Josh wanted up on the step. Mom insisted Jon was there first and gramma worked happily on trying to ignore the squabble. A couple of times Josh tried to push him aside to no avail. I’m not sure just why Jon had to leave, maybe the call of a parent, maybe the call of nature, but he ran off promising to be right back. No sooner had he gone than brother Josh climbed the step to “help”. Jon returned to see the situation and demanded his spot to which mom replied that he’d left and Josh was on the step now. Eyes flaming Jon surveyed the room and found an ice pick. Gramma averted a disaster of Biblical significance by pulling the ice pick from his hands in route and quietly saying “We don’t take up weapons against our brother.” A short time later, having proved his equality, Josh found other things to occupy his interest while Jonny mounted the step to help again.
As teens he and his brother were proud scouts. Our family camped a lot and the boys loved to show off their skills and knowledge. Coming back from a long all day hike tired, cold and wet from a common Rocky Mountain thunderstorm, we saw that the teenagers had made it home ahead of us. We assumed that anyway, because they always did. This night long before we reached our base camp, we could see the fire. Actually, they could have seen the fire from the international space station had it been overhead at that time. Walking into camp I saw Jon’s big proud smile. I also noticed that there was not one stick of firewood left for the night or next morning. Dull and tired I simply said “You guys could make a person hate boy scouts,” and went about my business. Before the twilight died off, I had a large neat pile of wood gathered, and stacked for the morning. I did say “Thank you.”
As a child, Jon came to see me at least once or twice a month and the memories are so many. Some pride and decency will not allow telling, but mostly time and respect for the reader leave them contained only in my heart and memory. Then there came that business of the teen years when friends and school and work and whatever took their toll and the visits grew seldom and were shallow. But now: the impending separation. I faced it sadly at first, missing the joy of the bygone closeness. I guess I wasn’t the only one who remembered how much we once shared. So I cherish the sweet little stories and plans and suggestions we’ve known for the past month. They’ll have to do till Christmas.
Hurry Christmas.
