My day was not one of those stellar, calm, peaceful days. No. It was a day where I got up early and drove Truett to rehab. Zachary, the physical therapist, worked Truett hard today on a treadmill. Zach worked Truett so hard that Truett threw up in a rehab wastebasket. "Poor baby," I thought. "We just want you to learn to walk again."
After we got home from rehab, I had to immediately take Clay, my son, to a doctor's appointment in Lake City. I can think of no greater pain than spending time with a thirty-four year old person who flits from having a band to getting a GED, and in the next breath, wanting to buy a plastic semi-automatic rifle that shoots plastic BB's so he and his friends can play 'war'.
My entire day was spent catering to my loved ones. . . driving and driving and driving. And with a note on that topic, have you noticed the price of gasoline lately. $74 dollars to fill my Acadia!
But, finally I arrived home, only to realize I had purchased salmon because it helps reduce belly fat compared to beef or chicken. Do you for one moment think I felt like cooking salmon? Not on a bet. In fact, Truett has ALWAYS been the cook of the finer foods. I've always been the cook of macaroni and cheese or Hamburger Helper. So here it is, 5:30 and I have to cook salmon. Upon entering the house, I quickly told Truett, "I don't feel like cooking tonight. We're having sandwiches; and Mom, you can have leftovers!"
However, a more sensitive part of me said, "Just cook the darn salmon!" So I did, with Truett's instructions; and my friends, it was delicious. Of course the veggies were Paula Deen microwavable, plus leftover yellow rice from last night's supper.
Meanwhile, the pharmacist called and told me Clay's prescription was ready, so I headed to the car when I spied a somewhat large pile of beige poop, with a cat cautiously walking around it. So I tiptoed a little closer, staring at the pile until something clicked in my brain, "That's not poop! That's a coiled up snake!" Well, luckily Clay was within hearing distance when I yelled, "CLAY! GET OUT HERE! I WANT YOU TO SEE SOMETHING!". So Clay came running with his semi-automatic plastic pellet rifle in hand, paused and began pelting a very, very, long corn snake! In the meantime, I rushed to the car and backed out of the carport in record speed, the whole while hoping I didn't back over Clay, the snake, or the cat.
I imagine you are wondering where this story is going. This story is about the most peaceful part of my day. The part when I drove Clay to Wal*Mart to buy a plastic semi-automatic rifle that shoots plastic pellets. I dropped Clay at the door and told him I would search for a parking space. Of course, I couldn't find a close one and I ended up about a half-acre away from the entrance.
And that's when I saw this beautiful dove that flitted from cart to pole to cart to pole. I pulled the car over, grabbed my camera and started taking pictures. . .and my friends, chasing this dove was the most peaceful part of my day, even though I had to hear my son ranting, "Mom! Where were you? I've been waiting for ten minutes!" And I thought, "I don't care!"
Thank you, God for the dove!
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