This isn’t funny but it is OK to laugh, especially if you are a Gentle Reader and you know that, hard as I try, I do lack the ‘make ’em laugh’ gene.
Not that I don’t love to laugh. I do. I still laugh at the kids’ Knock-Knock jokes. I loved this past weekend with son Mark. His stories are an adventure in listening and he is fearless in the telling. We laughed so much…we laughed together and the weekend couldn’t have been more than a few hours long, ending much to soon.
I digress. The Chicks Flick first.
Some time ago, my neighbors planned a short vacation which is now part of their memory. As they were packing, Steve phoned asking if I needed any help. How many people have neighbors who phone while packing offering help? I owe them big-time, so I asked what I might do while they were gone. The part I heard was “Feed the chickens.” The part I missed became my Chicks Flick Nightmare.
No laughing just yet.
First day and I skate the mud and patches of ice intent of doing my job–feed the chickens. Coop noisy and easily found by scent, but I couldn’t find the grain or the water source.
Failure. Stress-o-meter off the charts. Steve and Lisa will come home to a pen of death to say nothing of the fact that they will now have to buy eggs.
What to do? Pace. Wring hands. Worry. Pace again. Still no grain and water. The magic of cyber space, send an email. Hours later, no answer. OK. I know it is their vacation, but dead chicks are reason enough to hunt them down via cell.
You might think I was imagining it, but I detected a hint of a smile, maybe even a tinge of laughter as in “You did what? You went there today? Couldn’t find the grain and water?”
Totally nice. Totally clear that I was only back up…that Steve’s brother would avert poultry disaster, that I could stop replaying the funeral scene, The Chicks Flick, over and over and over. Next time I will listen very carefully.
Shaking’ The ‘Shine
Walking encyclopedia, once a toss away phrase, is dictionary-hard when it comes to Mark. He just knows stuff, all kinds of stuff; heavy and light, history, behavioral awareness, business, current events stuff, planes, trains and automobiles stuff. He is also a man of purpose investing in his passions. His stories reflect those passions and most stories have laughter and learning.
So just in case you have need-to-know on this one, I will share my latest learning.
When handed the Mason jar, brown sheathed or not, leave the lid, give the jar a mighty shake. See lots of small bubbles at the bottom of the ‘shine jar? Take a pass. See big bubbles rising to the top? That moonshine is good to go, delicious, stilled to perfection and probably causing minimal brain damage.
Laughter is the cure for what ails.