Wow

Did you know that Marie Callendar's sweet little frozen berry cobbler (pie?) has 1200 calories each? Even if you go with the suggested serving size of four per little pie, it's still 300! Why bother? Just go get a spoon, a half gallon of vanilla ice cream and crawl into your cave to hibernate for the foreseeable future. I hear some bears are starving, not yet settling down for their long sleep. Maybe we could drop cases of Marie Callendar's delicious pie type food products in the hinterlands. We could save all the poor bears.

Earlier today we were on a nice little two lane divided highway, barreling along, happily listening to Jim Weiss read and tell 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. You know how, when pulling past a semi, a peripheral glance can make it seem like the truck is drifting into your lane? I glanced right as we came up even with a hulking, sleek black wheel well. Sure enough, it looked a little bigger. Then a little bigger. A little bigger... A split-second prayer: Oh, dear Lord. Only about a third of the van had passed the truck. I stood on the accelerator, pulling ahead and steering left, out of the left lane, more onto a perfectly tidy, paved shoulder. I looked in the rear view mirror, expecting to be rewarded with a sight mocking my paranoia. Instead, the truck was more than halfway into our lane, his front grill and headlights bigger than they should have been in the mirror. My heart nearly stopped, but I kept my foot down, by then safely back on the blacktop proper, quite easily missing the guardrail at the looming bridge. He righted himself without incident. Oh my, how close it was. How bad it could have been. My precious little people, who didn't hear me gasp, didn't react to the sudden change in direction or change in speed because they were engrossed in the story, seem all that much more dear tonight. Sometimes I think there are literally battalions of angels flying fast to keep up with my brood.

Deep breath.

The other events of the day are done, thank God. There's not much to say, really--someone was given clear instruction as to what needs to happen next. I cannot tell you how fervently I hope he follows through. The proposed consequences elicit a lurching, visceral response from me. I'd venture that my horror amounts to zippo when compared to his. Which only compounds mine.

As someone once said, "Well, it sucks. But if it has to suck, at least it can suck in your favor." True. And yet thoroughly hollow. I do so wish that I'd wake up from this nightmare.

(Swerving...) Three Good Things, with an assist from The Desiderata, by Max Ehrmann:
Immediate picture: Everyone's sleeping hard but me, and I'm next. Yippee! Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
Small picture: We're home safe, hallelujah and amen. Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
Big picture: Evil cannot win. With all the sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.


One last thing as I sit here with my head (figuratively) in my hands. Please do hug your babies an extra time or two and hold your beloved super tight. (More Sting running through my head: How fragile we are...) Here's hoping your travels do not at any time include a big black truck with someone sleepy behind the wheel.