Monday, June 16, 2014



Agley.   That’s the proper word, I think, thank you Mr. Burns, for what happens to plans, sometimes.  And our plans of the past few weeks, for that long-awaited trip to the coast to join three dozen of our near-and-dear---well, there was enough agley ganging up on us that it stopped us literally in our tracks.


Almost the exact moment we stepped toward the first of perhaps ten bags and coolers, loaded with clothes, crafts, books, birthday presents, food, blender, Keurig, kitchen supplies, and Margarita makings, Chris was struck with a dire medical emergency which laid him low for a week, and still has him weak and shaky (and scared me absolutely witless, as well).  We dashed for the ER, he was at last admitted, and he spent the succeeding days hooked to beeping, prickly, shrieking machines, sleepless and scared and brave and miserable, and being firmly reassured that it was not as dire as it first seemed.


We’re home now, and he spent the weekend mostly resting, with our lovies in and out and Caro surpassing herself with a sublime Fathers’ Day Brunch. 


They’ll still be keeping a close eye on him, and more tests are in the near future, but he’s feeling much better, and there have been no further recurrences of the symptoms.   We’re just so grateful for the prayers and good wishes, the splendid care and his continuing recovery.


Sometimes, when I’m having a sleepless night of my own, I wander around amongst little bits and pieces I’ve jotted down, and last night, I stumbled on this---I know I wrote it, because they’re my phrasings and thoughts, but when and why---those are a mystery past my solving.     I think the angels knew that I needed something frivolous and comforting right now.

Tiny pink or purple dragons, warmly burping cookie-breath

When they’re sad, the burps are lickrish, when they’re wishful, berry pie.  Then the many shades of happy, and angry and forlorn and merry, swooping
through the green, trailing cinnamon and peppermint and lime. 


Cheery flits leave wakes of lemon, with vanilla overtones, and the swoops and swags of exuberance and joy spread strawberry fumes like clouds.


Chocolate means contentment, and black cherry is for drowse, with a little whiff of nutmeg for a nice Winter nap, snuggled into the covers.


Warm shortbread for an afternoon’s smooth course, peach muffins for a morning’s rise, tea and cappuccino’s brown notes for the first light in the sky.


Time for night-night for this nestling, with his trusty Passy-Fire.



Jane and Lance Hattatt said...

Hello Rachel,

What a shock for you both but, happily, it seems that the emergency is over. Well, the best laid plans are surely destined to go awry and all your preparations, way beyond anything that we could organise, must just be put on the back burner. Since, like the Phoenix, you must rise again and carry on carrying on!

And, what happy comforting thoughts have passed through your mind in those dark hours before the dawn. We remember them ourselves when sleep escaped us and the welcoming light of dawn seemed far off. As you say, it is as if a divine intervention is holding you by the hand and leading the way. We do believe that this happens in one's really darkest hour of need.

May your husband get well soon and may happier days lie ahead!

Patsy said...

I sure am glad all is better now. Our dear ones can sure scare us when they get sick.

steelersandstartrek said...

Chris -- and YOU -- are in my constant thoughts and prayers.

And the next time you're up in the wee hours, feel free to call. That's me most nights too. Only difference is my mindgurgles are not nearly so eloquent as your gems.

Give Chris a hug for us. Then tell him to give you one from us too.

Southern Lady said...

Rachel, my heart and prayers go out to you and Chris and the rest of your sweet family. May Chris continue to get better and stronger each day, and I hope you can get some rest, too. Emergency situations, especially scary ones like yours, do take a toll on everyone, and it's usually when everything has settled down again that you feel the brunt of it all.

Hope you can reschedule your family gathering soon!

Wsprsweetly Of Cottages said... are just the dearest. I hope your Chris is going to be fine.. I could feel that old feeling of fear..
Take care of you too, Rachel. I know how worried you must be.
I wish I could do something...say something to make thing easier.
I wish my wee hours were of thoughts like yours..
I need to save your thoughts and read them in those dark hours when sleep won't come and tears won't stop.
My love to you..

Cape Coop said...

Please may Chris be all right, may this just have been an isolated little burp, or hiccup, in the feast that is your life!

Kim S. said...

We are still thinking of you both and missing you and talking about you every day. Glad that the emergency wasn't as bad as feared, but sorry that you both had to go through all of the pain and anxiety and miss your visit with your lovies!