This weekend was fantastic! I worked hard, which always feels rewarding. I like it when work is where I rest and home is where I work. I even enjoyed a few epiphanies.
It started off kinda’ crappy. The Goddess tried and failed to start the ever temperamental Trooper. She ended up hitching a ride to dance classes. I then tried to start it, and walked away in a state of total discouragement. I didn’t even mess with the thing for the rest of the night, such was my dismal attitude.
Friday morning seemed promising. The Trooper mysteriously started. The Goddess and I drove around town for a few minutes running errands. At the post office it died an undignified death. I walked home and towed it back with the Warhorse (Bronco II). A quick check with a spark tester betrayed the problem; almost certainly the ignition control module. It is a common problem with this particular GM ignition system. I am grateful it failed somewhere close. I was bummed. I didn’t really want to spend Memorial Day weekend fixing something. It turned out to be only about an hour of work.
Saturday was spent carving up the landscaping of my tiny, manageable yard. There were flowers planted aplenty.
Sunday, oh terrible Sunday. Church is always too early (and too often). I am woefully lazy. Yet, during the festivities of the second hour a strange thing happened. It began with my friend Darth Boecks whisking me into the Family History Room. From there, he proceeded to interrogate me, asking me lewd and specific questions about my ancestry. It turned out to be pretty fascinating. Later after the festivities were over, I went home and called Whodoggy, and we were pulled into the dark side of family history. The trouble was neither of us could remember our paternal great-grandfather’s name. One of us made the brilliant decision to get Original Voodoo on the tele with us (using the space age technology known as a conference call). He expanded our knowledge of the family name and all was good and well. Then it happened.....Whodoggy noticed it (damn him).....our parents are 5th cousins!!!!! There you have it. One could say I have been baptized again, because basically everything I’ve ever done wrong or stupidly happened because I am the product of an incestuous relationship!!
Thanks Mom, thanks Dad for the straight shot to heaven.
Monday dawned a new day. Have you ever noticed how a lot of movies for kids feature the promise breaking Dad? Yeah, well that’s me. One of my offending promises was a tree house that I started building 2 years ago. My poor kids, my ambitions were greater than my capacity to deliver. This weekend I fulfilled my promise. My children and I constructed the tree house. And it is a good house, built upon the rock of my belated kept promise. It features such things as a hardwood floor (2 x 4's), windows (without glass), 2 levels (there really is no 1st level), a great view (of a tree), and a natural wood finish (weathered scrap wood). They love it!
Woe is me and my overactive conscience.
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"The road goes ever on and on." Tolkien
6 comments:
I love geneology...You did forget to mention that, although our parents had the same great-great-great-great-great-grandpa, our lineage also traces back through Charlemagne and Prince Adrian "The Flatulent".
A finer have-at-ye to the woes of Sunday I have n'er read. It is far too early, and seemingly far too often. Well said.
And I am pleased to hear that you cleansed your bad-father palate. It was getting depressing watching you eat away your pain.
And as for the incestuous genes that course (or coarse rather) through your veins...at least you weren't a part of Noah's family where cousins begat cousins. That is if you by into that whole the earth flooded nonsense.
Mi Hermano
To be perfectly honest, I question our royal lineage. I will probably one day double check the assertions of whomever made those pedigree charts, just to be sure. It does stroke the ego to see a line that actually goes back to St. Cyllin of Britain or Charlemagne. I just hope that it is true. Thanks for commenting Tio.
As for you Ibid... you should know that I have an overactive conscious gland. Office whinery will still take place. And, I am not quite finished with the crappy father sulking. There is still one more promise yet to keep. More on that later. Also, you should know that after I become a good father, I will still be a bad husband. A problem that will take some time to remedy.
As far as the blasphemous flood comment....shame, shame on you. A great topic for debate; shall we? I guess one blasphemy deserves another (far too early, far too often). Thanks for your witty opining.
It was blasphemous. I was being overly snarky. I need to be more polite when I saw things of that nature. But I am a starting to think that many of the stories in the Bible are metaphorical.
Brethern, The problem arises on "I Think". Take the documentury of Simcha Jacobovici, The Exodus Decoded. This daring man researched the missing points from a nonbiased obsevant stance for ten or so years before presenting one of the most revealing cases of how and why it happened. Though his second film was an "I Think" The Jesus Family Tomb. Don't feel right. The great Flood metaphorical? Possibly, but when a lesson or trail is taught from Deitiy isn't there some experience or involment personal, individual that proves or establishes our Being?
heres a geneology link that explains it all. poppy
http://www3.clearlight.com/~acsa/introjs.htm?/~acsa/songfile/I2MMYOWN.HTM
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