It was a long day. Every day is that way when you're pregnant. I was so tired I stumbled to wash my face and pull my flannel pajamas onto my worn-out body.
There was just enough room in the moment for one perfect sentence.
Even in the dark, I can see you're beautiful.
How does he get it right?
23 July 2006
The Great Jade Caper
Grandpa always is the kind of person who solves his own problems. Too little space in this house? Knock out a wall! Too few bathrooms? Install a hallway sink! Missing phone calls while you're on the porch swing? Answer a telephone-on-a-pole as you while the hours away. This is the mentality which still kept ahold Grandpa when, several years ago, the Great Jade disappeared.
It was a large plant, the kind it would take two or three or four men to carry. It was expensive, too: a jade that had multiplied and flourished through years of care by an expert gardener. It sat there on the busy street of buzzing traffic, protected by fencing but apparently not unseen by jealous neighbors.
And then it was gone. Grandpa awoke one morning to note that the jade had mystically disappeared. Who could carry that mammoth pot away in the dark of the night? As Grandpa stood on his front stoop marvelling the strength of the thieves, he noticed the jade had left a clue: a trickling path of dirt and leaves heading off the property!
That's all it took for the caper to unfold.
Grandpa must've had a quickened step in his leather loafers that morning, chuckling to himself at the idiocy of whomever made away with his Great Jade. The trail of plant life led a block or two away to a few apartment units of questionable status. And when Grandpa looked up one, two, three floors, it was there. The Great Jade stood, a trophy upon a third floor balcony.
Grandpa shook his head and walked amusedly home.
"Well, let's just march up there and get the plant!" A neighbor said.
"Are you a fool?" Grandpa replied, "Whoever took that plant is stronger than you and me and we aren't gonna face him. I already called the police. That jade will be mine again."
And so it was. And so it was.
It was a large plant, the kind it would take two or three or four men to carry. It was expensive, too: a jade that had multiplied and flourished through years of care by an expert gardener. It sat there on the busy street of buzzing traffic, protected by fencing but apparently not unseen by jealous neighbors.
And then it was gone. Grandpa awoke one morning to note that the jade had mystically disappeared. Who could carry that mammoth pot away in the dark of the night? As Grandpa stood on his front stoop marvelling the strength of the thieves, he noticed the jade had left a clue: a trickling path of dirt and leaves heading off the property!
That's all it took for the caper to unfold.
Grandpa must've had a quickened step in his leather loafers that morning, chuckling to himself at the idiocy of whomever made away with his Great Jade. The trail of plant life led a block or two away to a few apartment units of questionable status. And when Grandpa looked up one, two, three floors, it was there. The Great Jade stood, a trophy upon a third floor balcony.
Grandpa shook his head and walked amusedly home.
"Well, let's just march up there and get the plant!" A neighbor said.
"Are you a fool?" Grandpa replied, "Whoever took that plant is stronger than you and me and we aren't gonna face him. I already called the police. That jade will be mine again."
And so it was. And so it was.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
