Today we had a wonderfully exciting day. It is usually I who have the crazy long, complicated projects but this time it was Daddy. Jim cut what we call a “weed tree” that was in the abandoned lot behind our land and dropping seeds and casting shade on our garden. The feat of cutting down the tree and chopping it into fire logs and kindle was slow and arduous, taking several weeks to accommodate the occasional bad weather and work. The weed tree is a tree that is considered an invasive and problematic species because it is a haven for termites, breaks off easily and reproduces like… weeds.
Jim bought some big juicy steaks, potatoes, corn and broccoli. preparing for the day of the big open fire cookout in our back yard. Today after the sun had gone down, the boys jumped at the opportunity to dig a fire pit. The fire pit was then lined with ornamental concrete blocks that Jim had also done at home a while back. Then came the real challenge: getting the fire to start with wood that was chopped but not totally dry. With 70% humidity as a norm, nothing is every perfectly dry. Jim started the fire around 6 and by 7 we had would briquettes glowing red. I prepared the food and Jim cooked it on the fire “cave man style” we called it… except we had aluminum foil to protect our vegetables.
To celebrate our fire, I made piña coladas – “cave men” missed out! The fire was still going at 8:30 and we made smores. The kids said, “this is perfect for scary stories around the campfire or up in our rooms” (with the benefit of cool air conditioning). So then the challenge was… who? Who had the best scary story? Jaimito researched online, Olaia read a Grimm’s original fairy tale and I made up this story:
Angels in the Night
Once upon a time,not too long ago, in fact I think it was just the other day, not far from here. There lived a little boy who like to play outside and jump around, explore under rocks and around tree trunks and eat chips and nuggets and messy hot dogs. He was always the picture of contentment and mischief. So mischievous was he… that he did not like to take showers.
At 7:20pm every evening, twenty minutes after his mommy had arrived, he was called inside to dinner. “Wash your hands, Danny”, would usually melodically holler his mommy… As Danny came into view, he was usually asked with an admonishing tone. “Did you use soap?” “Yes ! Mommy Danny always protested, crossing his fingers behind his back.
At night before he went to bed his mommy again strongly suggested, “please take a shower before you go to bed. I have to work some more so Take a shower and hop straight into bed. “OK mommy” Danny would dutifully reply and not always do.
But every morning when he woke up he saw his nails were cleaner, his chocolate milk mustache was gone, his oily nugget fingers were soft as silk. It was magic he thought. In the morning sometimes his brothers would protest… but mommy, Danny did NOT take a shower. But Danny smartly assured her, yes I did, but they did not see me…. look my hands are clean I was a mess yesterday.
This continued for a while. Danny avoided taking showers and woke up clean. One day his brother asked him, How do you do it. I know you don’t take a shower. Danny thought long and herd and said. I honestly think it is angels at night I feel them tickling me sometimes with their wings and its like magic! Wow, that sounds cool. How do you know they are angels. I don’t, I just suppose they are.
That night when Danny went to bed, again he did not take a bath. Again he felt some fluttering half way through the night. Danny did not know but he had a fan club of little roaches that every night came to clean him. The news of Danny spread far and wide in the underworld and cockroaches came every night more of them to eat the feast at Danny’s finger tips.
Until one day, the cockroaches decided to take this holy boy who fed them every night and take them with him. He was never seen again. His brothers told his mommy that surely angels had swept him up. They shared the story of angels felt in the night. But in the end it was cockroaches who had the last bite.