Death By Water

Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,

Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell

And the profit and loss.

The shortest section of “The Waste Land” and the only one with no footnotes given … there's only seven lines beyond this, but as I said earlier the [T. S.] Eliot estate has a thing about quoting. And apparently there is no special significance to Phlebas as a character here. Pity.

I got to church last night for our Lenten service – but because of my work schedule (now it's 12:40 PM CST as I write this, I just came from picking my daughter Sarah up from school who's developing pinkeye) I get there just as the service ends. Afterward I took the kids out to dinner at Burger King because we wouldn't see Martha again for dinner with us until Sunday – Wednesday was the Lenten supper which my kids never find filling, Thursday Martha's bowling league meets and bowls, Friday night Martha works at Dakota Square McDonald's, and this weekend's State Bowling being held this year in Minot.

When we were picking up our food to go at Burger King, Sarah sat at one of the high tables and accidentally knocked her drink off the table. I explained it wasn't her fault, I even called for help with a mop and bucket there, but that gets her sulking, and I can relate – even when something is not our fault, it hurts. Before work yesterday I stopped in our local Goodwill store and found some gifts I knew the kids would like that were cheap – for Jeffrey another Skylander figure like the ones you're finding in McDonald's Happy Meals right now, still in the wrapper; and for Sarah a cupcake-shaped Cupcake Bakery for mini figures!

AND I broke my promises that I would give up chocolate (though I am not eating as much of it, grant me) and checking out (broke that Sunday when I checked out some Debbie Macomber books Martha wanted in a continuing series) and buying books (yesterday, with a graphic novel adaptation of Romeo and Juliet and today at Main Street Books with a 60-year LIFE magazine retrospective). Truth be known, the latter caught me with a quote from photographer Gjon Mili, but you could apply this anywhere I think: “A photograph is a brief collusion between foresight and chance.” Take today's offerings (and yes, you'll have to scroll up for this one).

This morning I was the first to see the tomb and rock garden we made Sunday morning and have been diligently caring for with water and sunlight, and on the fifth day we see grass starting to grow! This morning Jeffrey showed me the elephant he made with what remained of his breakfast cereal, and Saturday I snapped a photo of Sarah reading Oh, The Places You'll Go! to Martha on our living room couch, and the camera on my phone caught the afterimage of Jeffrey's hand as he was pulling it away, explaining the blurriness. So much in our life is blurry, isn't it – but one day we'll see far more than we can imagine possible!

 

 

Amen, David