Today, we met a couple at our efficiency apartment. We're giving it to them for a period of upheaval in their life. We all feel blessed as we wait to see what God does next. I walked from that house down to the house that we are currently rehabbing.
It's kind of neat walking along the brick street. In two blocks, I counted at least a half dozen big renovations going on, in addition to our project. It's like the whole street is getting a face lift.
A woman called out to me, and I answered her. I talked to a little boy on a skateboard.
I heard a helicopter flying low, and I watched carefully. Yes, I could see the tank and spray extensions. It's dropping liquid Bti on the river, to treat black fly. I stood with my hands shielding my my eyes against the sun, watching it circle around to come back. Probably my old boss Rick was on board. Suddenly, I missed my old job, I missed my old life. I wanted what I could not have.
I took a deep breath and put my hand down from my eyes. I am lucky. I know this. Nobody gets everything they want. I'm lucky.
Across the street, two contracters were moving a ladder. A tall black man with a sing song voice that hinted of tropical breezes called out, "The helicopter? It look for him (gesturing at the man on the other end of the ladder). America Most Wanted right there," and I laughed out loud as the man at the other end of the ladder said, "Don't you pay attention to a thing that one tells you!" In the mood for a good laugh, I said, "I don't know. I think he's got a very trustable face," and I made a frightened face and made like I was about to run for my life." Our laughter raised up and joined together, and danced a bit in the middle of the street.
They went back to work, and I finished walking to the new house.
The second floor is nearly painted, and Tim has done a beautiful job.
Today, I began scrubbing the walls to the third floor and I daydreamed of my plans for William's playroom as I scrubbed, dreaming of a Hickory Dickory Dock bookcase here (I have a plan in my head...) and a small boat for him to play pretend in, right over here, and a toy box. A comfortable chair for reading, and a bed for when he's older. I thought of Winnie the Pooh, and nursery rhymes, and little babies past and present. The open windows let in the breeze and I scrub listening absentmindedly to the town sounds, cheerful voices and a stray laugh or two, the leaves rustling in the big old maple trees out back.
I really am beginning to think that I will enjoy living on this street where everyone greets you and waves.
And no, Bill. I did not see the cat.