SIT, MAC!. I cant Why? I dont know how. All of my friends and my doctors tell me to sit or lie down for 2 weeks to let my back surgery heal. I never learned how to just sit. Linda Phillips, Chris Northuis Kuck, Barry Dana Corbin Corbin, Willy Perez-Feria, and alla the resta yous guys. The docs are saying the same thing yous are saying, get plenty of rest, sit and read and watch TV, dont do any work. Welp, I tried and tried but I jes caint do it. I never could do it. I dont know how to do it. I sit on the couch with Faye to watch one of her alphabet murder shows (CSI, NCIS, NYPD, etc.Faye doesnt watch any show unless she sees a head roll in the first 10 minutes). About the time they stretch the yellow crime scene tape I bound to my feet. Faye says, Now where are you going? I dont really know but it you follow me well find out. I tear into my storage room to see that my archaeological artifacts are intact for an upcoming lecture Ill be giving. I bolt over to a book shelf to be sure I have plenty of The Bible: Why Trust It for a workshop I be giving next month.I skate past my easel in my art studio where a blank canvas belts out stop and grab a brush. I slide thru the kitchen where cooking a pot of soup calls upon me, I pass my vibraphone that hums Summertime in my ears beckoning me to play a few bars. I zip into my computer room where a plethora of books beckon me to begin research on another book. I continue on into the music room where each of my instruments vie for my attention: Come play with me. My harp, Keyboard, bodhran, penny whistle, Lo Whistle, Psaltry, Harmonica, Steel drum, Spoons. I hustle down the steps and dart around the corner of the house and enter my Two Thousand year old Indian village replica. We live on top of the old mound. The village always needs attention. Baskets and gourds rot and need to be replaced, vines need to be cut back. I swing around to the back where my garden displays some delicate antiquiity. I climb the steps and zip thru the cabaret, the Cabana, and dash into the Jamaica Room. Here I look down onto the garden: The Round Table, Butt Hutt, Dock of the Bay, Poor Sweet Sues Fresh Produce Stand, Herp Garden, Each niche has its own flavor, its own name. Then I tear back into the house and sit with Faye . . . for about ten minutes. How can I sit for two weeks when this surge of activity calls upon me. Did I mention that I run a pest control company (5 employees) out of my house AND . . .keep Faye happy. And YOU want me to do something I dont know how to do. SIT?
Posted on: Sat, 07 Jun 2014 00:34:29 +0000
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