"In Full Bloom"

The season for building on the mountain is very short. Dual-axle trucks aren't allowed past October 15th, and only four-wheel drive vehicles are allowed to navigate the snowy, icy roads. October 14th we were able to get Tyvek wrapping on the exterior of the addition and even a few windows installed. We have finally been able to move everything we'd been keeping in a storage unit in town back home. Dave kept bringing trailer after trailer full of boxes unloading and stacking them. I could hardly resist the urge to open each box and rediscover any long lost treasures aka my rolling pin and box of recipe books. He stacks bin after bin onto the numerous metal racks we've had to purchase since the furnace fire incident that required us to move every single thing out of the cabin. "Let's get everything out of the storage unit first and then you can take all the time you want going through all of it." My eyes gaze over to the box that I know holds some of my childhood keepsakes. I might as well paste a label on that one called "Rabbit Hole". My need to find the box that holds my spices and baking supplies certainly trumps my desire to rummage through art projects from Mrs. McDonald's third grade class or to try on my high school graduation cap. Back to unloading the trailer.

When Dave and I work together on projects, we typically don't have the T.V. on or even music. We prefer that time to be able to easily talk, and in my case, be able to hear, since I swear my hearing ain't what it used to be. I call him a "soft-talker", but the reality is I am constantly asking him to repeat things, and when we do watch T.V., sub-titles are my B.F.F. A couple of weeks ago, with the presidential election looming, we decided to purchase a t.v. subscription that would give us cable news so we could see in real time what direction our country would be heading for the next four years. Usually after about five minutes of listening to the same headlines/stories being regurgitated, I'd get so disgusted I'd have to either turn it off or listen to music on my ear-buds so Dave could continue to get the unbalanced, fair and balanced, non-stop rhetoric spewing from the screen.

When I was a young girl, the threat of nuclear war with Russia terrified me. I'd sit at the dining table with my algebra text-book open, my number two pencil hovering over the notebook paper; my mind trying to compute what operation is done to 4x if 7x = 21 at the same time Dan Rather was talking about Soviet leader Brezhnev and communism and all sorts of other things that were such a distraction all I could think at the time was why should I care about 7x equaling 21 if we all end up living in a nuclear winter, and only if we didn't get killed by a nuclear blast. President Reagan talked about Star Wars. Not the movie. The military might that he told the world our country would use to defend ourselves if the need ever arose.

My library books of choice started to include fictional post-apocalyptic reads. One night my mother and I watched a movie "Threads". I think it was on PBS. It was horrific. Up to that point she'd been so picky about what she'd let us watch on T.V. or in the theater. I think because I was just barely graduated from high school and legal age to vote, perhaps she figured it was time for me to not be quite so sheltered from the realities of war and the importance of voting for leaders that can negotiate and communicate with other leaders around the world.

"Let's turn the t.v. off for a little while....the election results won't be coming in until way later tonight. We should go for a walk and get some fresh air." We'd recently had a light dusting of snow, but the sun was shining. We put on our hiking boots and wind-breakers and headed up the mountain. Once I catch my breath at the crest of the first hill, I let loose with a string of rhetorical questions. "How can the election go any other way? The economy alone has made things so much more difficult especially for our kids who are trying so hard to be independent? How can the freedom of speech, the MOST crucial to our way of life be suddenly so fragile?" and on and on I went while Dave, always the most patient, listens and lets me vent and tries to be the calm to my cranky. I hear my parents words echoing in my mind "Whatever the outcome, the wheels of government turn pretty slowly.....checks and balances....branches of government...." I want to be sassy back and say "Yes, that's supposed to be true, but never in your life would you think presidential campaigns would be spending millions of advertising dollars, the majority of it on propaganda/commercials regarding the rights of women to kill their unborn children."

Dave touches my arm and stops me and points, "Allyson, look." A beautiful buck crosses the road right in front of us. We watch him follow a doe into a grove of gamble oaks. I am mesmerized. As long as we've lived here this sight still continues to leave me breathless. Nature. God's gift to help keep us grounded in what is true and good.

I am only one person. One vote. But I am a mother. A grandmother. A wife. A sister. A friend. I can't control much, but I can stand for good; and I can defend the tiniest, weakest and most defenseless among us.

The cold air has filled my lungs and my thoughts have cleared a bit. "Let's head back and see how the election results are going. However things turn out we'll just make the best of it right? Also...let's remember to fill the bird feeder when we get home. The birds will starve if we don't feed them!" I smile at Dave. I'm a nicer person and little more fun when I've been outside for a while.

We ate our dinner in front of the T.V. , Dave, switching back and forth between cable craziness and me swiping through my favorite up and coming social media guru's who have made getting news refreshing even a bit more fun. We witnessed the red wave of conservatism begin to roll across the map from east to west as states were closing voting. Dave headed to bed; I kissed him goodnight, "I'll come let you know when CNN calls the election. I won't believe it until then."

The next morning I grabbed my phone first thing upon opening my eyes. No vote dump. Still no conceding but also no vote dump. Whew. It felt a bit like an adult Christmas morning. Excited. Hopeful. Peaceful. Dare I say, Joyful. I threw my old pink robe on and headed downstairs to make some celebratory sourdough blueberry pancakes. The red wave of the night before had come to our home. On the piano, was my mother's Christmas cactus. In full bloom. It hasn't bloomed since she passed away.

Sometimes I think how grateful I am that my parents and grandparents aren't living to witness what has become of our society.  Mama used to say, "The bad are getting badd'er, but the good are also getting good'er." Of course she was right. There is so much to be grateful for and so much to look forward to. We just have to make sure we are always trying to be one of the good'er ones.

Do you see who is peeking out the window?