It's All A Matter of Perspective

Mosquitoes in Paradise

Sad, sad. 

The beginning of this week brought air hanging heavy with strife and contention at The Parson's House.  

The Parson had his nose a bit out of joint and the Parson's Daughter was somewhat disgruntled, both of which caused the Good Wife to feel vocally unsettled and the Parson's Son to have mild heartbreak.  To add to the simmering cauldron, the Schnauzer with Attitude took to yelping loudly and angrily upon being assigned to her cage, the cause of which was her desire to sleep in the bed of the Good Wife (a Great Sin which would bring a tsunami of strife and will not be tolerated).

The result was periods of silence with bursts of very firm, random phrases of intention and purpose from all inhabitants.

This season has passed and all are grateful.  Peace and order is now restored with large servings of love and goodwill all around.

Next?

Celebration 24

Today has been a day of joy and wonder.  The Parson and the Good Wife celebrated 24 years of marital bliss and perfection on this very day!

We went away for a few days to sit by Old Man River and ponder our Past, Present, and Future.  Of course, what is there to ponder when the past has been sheer perfection, the present is absolute joy, and the future holds endless possibilities and the tools to obtain them?!  Being the Good Wife that I am, I felt compelled to point out that there just might be a few Mosquitos in Paradise, but that a little Off would take care of that just fine.  Being the deep man that he is, the Parson got the point almost immediately.  

We both had to wonder if the tornadic activity that came roaring right up the river to our very window on Sunday morning was some sort of subliminal message of some sort from another world.  I took my computer (there wasn't a staff handy) and held it out and commanded "Peace, Be Still!" because I am just a bit tired of all the tornadic activity that has been a part of my life for the past several years.  A little goes a long way in Paradise, and we've had enough, thank you very much but no thank you take it back, please.

As we dodged fallen trees and downed power lines in our idyllic little getaway place, we went back in time to our rehearsal night...the memories of coming out to get in the car and leave and being blocked in by fire trucks that had been called to the house...the firemen lecturing us on what a crime it is to call in a false alarm and we had no clue what was even going on...we found out later...our buddy, RC....

Lots of action through the years, but 24 seems to be a very good number.  We are very happy with it.  

All of which prompted the Good Son to say in a worried manner when we arrived home this afternoon, "There's something that's just WRONG about going away on an anniversary and saying you spent your time planning and getting stuff done and using words like successful and productive...there's something just WRONG about that!"  

We thought that if he was so worried about that part, we wouldn't even mention to him that we spent today walking through the very, very old cemetery outside of town looking for the oldest grave.  I won!  Born: 1773 - Died: 1820...

He would NEVER have understood how that fit in!

The main thought of all this that has arrested me is that 24 + 24 = 48.  Wow.