My Gazebo
"But I'll be all right, I'm just missin' you..."
Wow, songs. My summers are fraught with music, and now my head is too. That's what you get for being way auditory. I begin the day with a playlist of worship songs, then bop around our internet-subscription-500,000-song-media-library: Rhapsody. Ahhhh...Rhapsody. Danya fixed me up with a couple of new albums today. He's crazy about Caedmon's Call's latest.
Anyway, back to the point. That quote is from a song called "Letters From Home," which is a terrific song, but in this instance I am applying it to my gazebo, which I will be visiting tomorrow. I'm going to P'ville for a business meeting tomorrow, and will probably hit PHC for lunch. My gazebo and my lake call to me across these many miles... and the Longaevi are simply delighted.
Indeed, their joy is so unrestrained that I hardly dare enter my room for fear of being mobbed and forced to listen, for the hundredth time, to Chiasmus detail his travel arrangements and my itinerary ("Musa, you must stop at The Place first and let us play all morning until you come back. Musa, how late may we stay? Musa, you don't suppose that they have disturbed my nest under the western eaves, do you? I had arranged the feathers so nicely, and my special stone is there...").
Paradoxus does nothing to quell them, because we are still at odds. I am hoping that the gazebo will soothe him a little. Perhaps then he will condescend to speak to me again--I mean really speak to me, not at me in that polite and detached way he has.
I asked to Simile about it, but she only lifted slender hands in a gesture of helplessness, and her eyes went silvery-blank. "It is the way in our country, Musa. Paradoxus follows the law."
"But things are different here!" I said, impatiently. "Here it is no crime for a ferret to play with a Longaevi. Why must he be so inflexible?"
Simile is strange, for she feels what I feel and yet adores her brother past all reckoning. I wonder that the conflicting emotions don't tear her apart. I could see them struggling together in her face, but, at last, she stuck by the latter and older of them. "Paradoxus is right, Musa. I am sorry."
And that was that. And now I must decide whether or not to yield to Paradoxus. A human yield to a Longaevi? Well, we shall see. I will employ every tool at my disposal first. He is, after all, a Rhetoricus of the family of Orator. Perhaps the combined effect of ethical, pathetic, and logical appeals will make an impression on him. At any rate, I mean to do my best. Why should Posy be deprived of her enjoyment just because, in some other country far away, there is a law that sets ferrets above the indignity of being ridden?
At any rate, I shall see my gazebo tomorrow.
Wow, songs. My summers are fraught with music, and now my head is too. That's what you get for being way auditory. I begin the day with a playlist of worship songs, then bop around our internet-subscription-500,000-song-media-library: Rhapsody. Ahhhh...Rhapsody. Danya fixed me up with a couple of new albums today. He's crazy about Caedmon's Call's latest.
Anyway, back to the point. That quote is from a song called "Letters From Home," which is a terrific song, but in this instance I am applying it to my gazebo, which I will be visiting tomorrow. I'm going to P'ville for a business meeting tomorrow, and will probably hit PHC for lunch. My gazebo and my lake call to me across these many miles... and the Longaevi are simply delighted.
Indeed, their joy is so unrestrained that I hardly dare enter my room for fear of being mobbed and forced to listen, for the hundredth time, to Chiasmus detail his travel arrangements and my itinerary ("Musa, you must stop at The Place first and let us play all morning until you come back. Musa, how late may we stay? Musa, you don't suppose that they have disturbed my nest under the western eaves, do you? I had arranged the feathers so nicely, and my special stone is there...").
Paradoxus does nothing to quell them, because we are still at odds. I am hoping that the gazebo will soothe him a little. Perhaps then he will condescend to speak to me again--I mean really speak to me, not at me in that polite and detached way he has.
I asked to Simile about it, but she only lifted slender hands in a gesture of helplessness, and her eyes went silvery-blank. "It is the way in our country, Musa. Paradoxus follows the law."
"But things are different here!" I said, impatiently. "Here it is no crime for a ferret to play with a Longaevi. Why must he be so inflexible?"
Simile is strange, for she feels what I feel and yet adores her brother past all reckoning. I wonder that the conflicting emotions don't tear her apart. I could see them struggling together in her face, but, at last, she stuck by the latter and older of them. "Paradoxus is right, Musa. I am sorry."
And that was that. And now I must decide whether or not to yield to Paradoxus. A human yield to a Longaevi? Well, we shall see. I will employ every tool at my disposal first. He is, after all, a Rhetoricus of the family of Orator. Perhaps the combined effect of ethical, pathetic, and logical appeals will make an impression on him. At any rate, I mean to do my best. Why should Posy be deprived of her enjoyment just because, in some other country far away, there is a law that sets ferrets above the indignity of being ridden?
At any rate, I shall see my gazebo tomorrow.
posted by Praelucor at 9:35 PM
5 Comments:
I could eat lunch in the gazebo almost every day of summer... but there is a sort of melancholy about it, as if the lawn is fraught with shadows of people who are no longer there...
People come in body and soul. Though the body may be absent... ;-)
Say hello to the place for me, Christy! Or else my ghost will haunt you while you are there :-)
You're makin' me jealous. :) I wish I could just drive half an hour or so and stop in at PHC to say hi to the few friends who are still around. Lucky! *imagine Napoleon Dynamite's voice*
Y'know, it's funny...I always hear from the people who are at PHC over the summer about how dead the dear old place is. But when I was there, although there wasn't a soul on campus except the security guard and a few landscaping people (in other words, not merely dead but buried), I found it a delight to wander about alone.
Maybe it's just my solitary nature. Anyhow, I went and leaned against my own post in my own gazebo and gazed out across the pond (which was sapphire-blue, in case you wondered. I love her in that mood.) and felt absolutely at ease for the first time in weeks. I guess being home has been more of a strain than I realized, at least during these awkward transitional weeks.
Anyway, all that to say "I kinda like it empty," though of course I will like it better when you are all there. :-)
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