Sunday, April 29, 2012

A Butterfly's Wings

The weekend was just too short.  We came home late tonight after having dinner with friends.  I'm grateful I have such good friends.  I don't always get to see them as often as I like, but I have to tell you I have interesting friends.  Sometimes I imagine them talking to each other, finding that they have more than just me in common.  Some are artists.  Some are geeks.  Some are introspective, touching on philosophy and ethics.  Most of them read quite a bit.

I made an apple pie today and brought it over for dessert.  The problem I had was that I started too late and then I needed to put it in the oven when we arrived.  You can do that at a good friend's house.  Then, I didn't bring the cookie sheet into the house and the thing bubbled over in the bottom of her oven.  Oh, that was embarrassing.  I made a sticky mess in my friend's oven.  It's a good thing she's so laid back.

I ate too many carbs and my brain has turned to mush.  I can feel the sugars throbbing behind my eyes.  It was okay while we were all still talking, but I can feel it now, like one glass of wine too many.  You don't realize it until it's too late how it's going to make you feel.   

We even brought our dog over, so the dogs could play.  It was fun standing outside in the yard, watching the dogs dodge back and forth.  How did I get so lucky as to have a friend who says I should bring my dog over to play?  Teddy is sacked out on the living room floor.  He didn't even make it to his bed. 

The rest of the weekend was sucked up working with Nick on a math project for school.  I made a bunch of extra pie crusts and froze them.  I would have made a pie for Nick and Mike, but they wanted pumpkin and it never made it to the list when we used the last can of pumpkin.  Tomorrow maybe. 

Okay, so can you see that my brain has turned to mush?  I'm not going to even try to tell you a story tonight.  I'm going to ramble on and nothing's going to come up. 

See, I can't even tell you what we sat and laughed about tonight.  We talked about our dogs.  We laughed about that a lot, putting words in their mouths.  I told them the story of when I skidded on the ice in front of a semi truck and hit the guardrail going 60 miles per hour and lived.  Shoot, I wasn't even scratched.  That guardrail I hit was bent at least eleven inches in from where it had been.  I remembered seeing the words 'Peterbilt' in my passenger-side window as I skidded.  Thanks to the inventor of the guardrail, I didn't roll down the hill.  I didn't come to a stop on the railroad tracks that guided a train at 40 to 50 miles per hour past while I stood above, next to my sweet guardrail, counting my lucky stars.  That was a good night.  I felt high that night, high on adrenaline, happy to have survived.

I believe in fate somehow.  Why isn't it fate when seriously bad things happen and I come through it?  Why is it only fate when something good happens?  Hmmm.

So maybe it was fate that my pie bubbled over in my friend's oven tonight.  Why aren't trivial things fate as well?  Well, the chaos theory says that a butterfly's wings could be the trivial movement that starts a hurricane on the other side of the world.

My world is a good example of the chaos theory, but I'll be damned if I can explain it to you.  I keep trying, but I'll never capture that butterfly. 

Thank you for listening, jb

No comments:

Post a Comment