Monday, July 9, 2007

Monday, Monday

It’s summer.
The sun is shining. I’m at the cabin, and two out of three of my kids (Clint and Drew) are in the area.
Clint, who is licenseless for the month of July, has arranged for his friends to transport him for the next 4 weeks. Except they both are out of town. So I’ve been his daily taxi service for the past 6 days.
I picked him up last night in Sardis, where he was dropped him off on his way back from Wake Fest in Kelowna and brought him up to the cabin. Then this morning he got a call from friends at the other end of the lake, inviting him to join them there.
It’s only a 15 minute ride there… and then another 15 back.
One hour later he called, suggesting Drew might like to hang out with them…
Drew who is as bored as a board was ready in 12 nano seconds.
Fifteen minutes there…15 minutes back.

Summer of 07 will not be like the others.
In addition to getting myself to and from work, making sure Drew is transported to and from his summer places, driving Max to and from his carpool point and his Math 10 weekly testing site; I’ll be Clint’s source of transportation as well. Don’t let anyone make you think that parenting is complicated – it’s not. All you need is a vehicle and no life of your own.

Sharing my space here at Cultus are 8 sweaty men. One is operating a Komatsu baby back hoe, one is playing in his pint sized bob cat, one painting the exterior of the cabin 6 inches away from my nose with a 4 inch roller. Three are inside the new cottage, doing something important with wires and tubes and buckets. One is moving rubbish from their lot to ours and one is the boss of them all.

And then there are the dump trucks. A steady stream of them, rumbling down the lane, across the beach, past the new house … eager to dump their cargo onto the patch of earth directly infront of where I’m trying to get lost in a book.

Seven manly vehicles are parked here at my patch of paradise. Everything is covered in a velvety soft layer of ultra fine dust. The gentle sounds of the beach and the creek are drowned out by the roar of diesel engines. And I wonder if this place will feel special ever again.

Maybe someday.
But probably not this summer.

I talked to Ken, who said they’re hoping for an August completion date.
But then, they’ve been hoping for May, June and July completion dates as well. So, really, it’s anyone’s guess.

I don’t want this to be ‘The Summer that Jane Complained”. So I won’t. I will count my blessings instead:

1. All this driving with Clint? Great opportunities for deep conversations. And we’ve had some good ones thus far. “Do you think I’m like my dad?” “What do you think about allowing pastors to preach for a whole hour?” “What do you think about our Road to Rokai project?”

2. The early morning and late afternoon drives with Max? Lucky me. I get to hear how his day has gone. And how working at the new plant is different than working at the old one. Being involved in his correspondence course work by arranging tutoring and testing? I guess it’s my best way of showing him I love him.

3. Having Mondays and Fridays off? Gives me a break from my job responsibilities; not to tan and relax as in past years, but to be available for my kids and my parents … Stuff (maintenance and cleaning issues) needs to be done at the cabin. Needs to be done. And God is freeing up some time so that I can oversee it. Tanning isn’t really good for me anyways, apparently.

4. All the driving I do by myself in order to pick someone up? I’ve decided to commit that time to prayer. None of this getting up at 5 am to pray business. I can do it at 7 am on my way back home from dropping Max off. Or at 5 pm on my way out to pick up Clint.

5. All these guys and this dust and those vehicles, the never ending noise and the guys? The guys. The guys with tans, and muscles and hammers and shovels doing manly things? I’ll think of a blessing eventually.

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