Alas, there isn't a picture of the adventure that started the morning: the lock to the bathroom got set accidentally, and since we close the bathroom door when not in use to get a certain puppy from grabbing hold of the toilet paper roll and rendering it useless, we were thus locked out! Not a pretty situation when the women in the house were in need of and desiring morning "refreshing." Ken tried a variety of lock-picking techniques to get us out of the jam, and just shy of busting the door down so that we could get in he decided to try to get the window open from the outside. He succeeded at that, but then there was the matter of someone climbing through the window to get to the door. Alas, yours truly was the candidate, and that was an interesting task (it is not a large window). I did, however, persevere, and we were able to breathe sighs of relief and generally proceed with the day.
In the afternoon we gathered up in costume to head to MJ and Cheryl's for the Florida-Georgia football game. In order to expose Clare to some regional feasting Ken prepared a low-country boil, and in keeping with that effort he adorned himself accordingly. I think he gets the award for originality. Look closely to note the "Skewered Cajun Chef." When I noted that he was sporting a vegetarian kebab he was quick to point out that a meatball was in the middle of the vegetables. Witty man.
Before sharing the next bit of news let me just say how blessed I am to have such wonderful people in my life as those with whom I spent this day. Ken, Clare, the women who came for "juice and jewels," as one person alluded, and the Gator Gang. It was a joy-filled day that was soul-satisfying and nurturing, and reminds me of who I am.
Alas, once home we suffered a mortal blow to the heart when we opened an email from Ken's daughter announcing the birth of their second child (another boy)--ten days earlier. Our names were the last in the list of those to whom the email was addressed. There are no words to describe the pain of this gesture on her part, which is at the least intentional and cruel.
The timing of my getaway to Florida Sunday afternoon could not be better, though I am not happy that Ken will be alone to process and react to the latest action in this family's drama. He'll be okay, but it would be better for us to have the opportunity to share our thoughts and feelings together as we experience them. I guess I can take down the sign over the kitchen door that reads, "Nana's kitchen: where memories are made and grandkids are spoiled. Open 24 hours." Prayers for wisdom and tenderness, and eventually for healing would be appreciated. I feel too torn within to pray myself.
It had been such a lovely day, and the good news is that those memories will stay with me and affirm what is so good in our life. I just wish that life didn't suck so much as to clobber them so unnecessarily.
Channeling Julian: all will be well...