Our house was infested with flies last week, all because the day we got back from Callaway Gardens, we kept the kitchen door open for too long when unloading stuff from the car. Flies are such annoying creatures. The air was filled with their buzzes, so you know they were here, but they never stayed in one spot long enough–the moment you spotted where they were and found the object to swat them with, they flew away. Last night, XF killed the last known fly in our house. At long last, I could have some peace and quiet by myself.
A bad ending to an otherwise pleasant family outing: When we got back from Callaway Gardens, we found a final notice from our HOA waiting for us in the mailbox. Receiving the final notice was like having someone point a gun at you: “Fix your lawn quick, or else…”
The peach tree in our backyard has born so many peaches this year that we’re considering inviting kids from the neighborhood to pick them. The peaches smell so good–the kind of sweet, fresh smell that you won’t get in the supermarket. The down side: many are wormy, so you have to watch out a little when eating them.
While we were at the Callaway Gardens, We attended an organ concert at the Memorial Chapel. The chapel, nestled among luxuriant trees near a peaceful lake, was the perfect venue for an organ concert. When we got there, the organist had just finished his first piece, and the air was filled with reverberations of the music. In fact, you could say that it’s the reverberations that guided us there. After giving a short introduction to the chapel, he started to take hymn requests. We asked him to play Amazing Grace, a hymn that YY had just learned in her piano class.
For a layperson like me, the organ seems so much harder to play than the piano. The keyboard is much more complicated–there’s even one operated with the feet. The notes of the hymns sound so much grander and more majestic when they are played on the organ. But you really shouldn’t be comparing the organ with the piano. After all, as the organist gently pointed out to me, they don’t belong to the same family of instruments. The organ is a wind instrument while the piano is a percussion instrument.
On Saturday afternoon, we took a stroll in the Azalea Bowl. While we were resting in a shelter inside the Azalea Bowl, we saw a yellow butterfly struggling to take off from the ground. It must have just turned into a butterfly; its wings must still be wet. For a moment, its wings fluttered and fluttered, and it seemed that it would never be able to lift off. But then, the moment of magic came: its body balanced and it rose in the air. While it was flitting in circles in the air, the wind chimes hanging from the ceiling of the shelter started to jingle lightly. The timing was perfect, as if the butterfly and the wind chimes had rehearsed it in advance. The four of us all held back our breath in awe. Such moments of intense beauty don’t come by every day.
After YY’s piano lesson, XF said that he needed to work overtime at his company’s integration center, so he started to drive southward. Two hours later, we passed the airport and made our way in some small town. Where on earth is he taking us? Surely the integration center can’t be located in such an out-of-place spot. I looked over my shoulder and saw two bags of stuff lying on the floor behind our seats. There seemed to be beach towels in one bag. I touched the other bag and felt a toothbrush holder of all things. Unless he plans to work there overnight, surely there’s no reason to bring a toothbrush to work.
I tried to get him to open up a little by asking whether he’d get overtime pay and whether he would need to go there again on Monday. “No overtime pay. It’s a one-time thing.” He answered. Other than that, he kep his mouth shut. Then, about 10 minutes’ drive away from our final destination, XF announced with a big grin on his face that we were heading for no other place than Callaway Gardens. So that’s the big secret!
At 8 am today, something came from downstairs that woke me up–it’s the Happy Birthday song! In tune with the music, YY and XF got in the room and proceeded to serve me breakfast in bed. I felt both pampered and appreciated. From the secretive way the two exchanged smiles, I could tell they’d got more things planned for me today. Let’s wait and see what happens next.
These days, whenever she needs something, YY sends MM over. I don’t know where she got the notion, but YY seems to think we’re more likely to take the request seriously if it comes from MM. And MM seems pretty happy to be the message girl.
In our collection of children’s books, there’s one titled Frederick. In a family of mice busy gathering food for winter, one mouse sits apart. When criticized for his idleness, Frederick replies that he’s collecting sun rays, colors, and words. Then winter comes. At first, the mice are happy enough with the food they collected. As winter drags on and food runs out, however, they become disheartened. It’s Frederick the mouse-poet who gets his friends through the dreary winter with his vivid recollection of the colors of spring.
There’s nothing like the way in which imagination impacts our life and affects our emotional well being. Personally, I think this is one of the best children’s books that ever came my way. However, I doubt that its morale could be fully understood by a 4-year-old.
I recently got a new pair of glasses. After I put them on, I checked myself out in the mirror. OMG, it’s like putting my face under a magnifying glass–all the spots and pores screamed out for attention！