1 july 2008

Now Playing: Harry Gregson-Williams, The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian soundtrack, Track 10, "Battle at Aslan's How" (an egregious spelling error, if I may say so--it ought to be "howe", not "how").

Before I begin, matters of my new dominion concern me. *Ahem* For those who have applied, we are sure that suitable posts will be discovered fitting to their gifts and abilities. The queen must be diplomatic and careful not to be too hasty in such matters (a hint of Entishness would, perhaps, be appropriate in so weighty an office). Secretary of Defense has been granted to the one who has petitioned it, and as for the F cousins, who certainly are not "lesser" members of the family, but whose placement required further consideration: R at least should share office with P, and perhaps A would like to be involved in a similar employment. Petr can be Secretary of State, if he likes, and go around making long speeches and debating with people. The three girls... well, they and L always like to do things as a "swarm", if we may be permitted the expression. :o)

The new administration requires further time to ponder the other positions still vacant in its government, but we hope to keep these as few as possible so that the new government does not reach the deplorable position of the old one with its multiplication of bureaucracy.

Now on to a more serious blog post....

1 July 2008. After lunch, M went out; S and I left at the same time, he to practice the organ, me to pick up ALF from the Fs’ house so that we can go watch Prince Caspian together in OKC. The afternoon was hot and sunny. We listened to Chris Thile, “Not All Who Wander Are Lost”, in the car. ALF told me the story of her ridiculous morning, in which a stalled car and four squirrelly siblings figured prominently and kept both of us laughing. I asked her about the CY retreat last week. We got to Quail Springs Mall at about three o’clock and so had about half-an-hour to kill before the film began. We walked around the mall, laughing at the odd fashions in one of the department stores, sneezing at the perfumes, admiring the sparkly jewelry. We went to the cinema early anyway and so had plenty of time to sit and make fun of the previews before the film began.

In some ways it was better the second time: as always, I noticed new things; and I liked Prince Caspian’s and Edmund’s characters more fully the second time. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed it, and discussed it, of course, as we drove back to Stillwater. We stopped at the exit for Guthrie, at Braum’s, for tea.

When we got back on the road, we chatted about music, Coldplay mostly, and ALF told me funny stories about her siblings, and talked about Dr. Who and Robin Hood. Evening was sinking from the sickly hot blaze of late afternoon to the cool dusty periwinkle blue and violet of dusk. We talked about books. As we pulled into the Fs’ road, we could see Ben, Greg, Fric, and Frac scampering about in the front yard. The hooligans threatened to board the ship, but I kept driving and turned round at the end of their narrow road, and parked in the ditch near their house. ALF and I sat in the car, talking, with the doors locked, to prevent the pirates from coming aboard. Said pirates made off about their own business. Mr. F came outside to put the pirates through their paces and then dispatch them indoors. Ben flashed the dining room lights at us, but we ignored him.

We were finishing our discussion about books and plans for the summer when Mr. F and ECF, who had gone on a prayer walk together, came walking back across the quiet yard through the dim. We went inside with them. I ended up sitting in the living room on the floor with the entire F compliment of children to entertain me: ECF sitting to my left on the floor with her long legs stretched out in front of her, giggling hilariously at her siblings and squirming because of Greg’s rather painful antics; Greg ensconced in the “royal throne”, a massive (and ugly) upholstered armchair in the corner, putting on a show for us of his gymnastic abilities, which included walking on his knees, turning his feet inside, turning his arms inside out, etc.,; Ruth, stretched in the laz-y-boy part of the sofa, deep in Christy, appearing only occasionally to chuckle quietly at whatever was going on around her; Ben, in the middle corner of the sofa, presiding over the entertainment with his henchman, Greg, egging Greg on and telling ridiculous stories, with the help of Dani, who sat next to ALF on the remainder of the sofa, the two girls leaning on each other. CVF paraded in and out, asking me to play a game with her; COF strode around the room, swinging a broken lamp on the end of a wire, pretending it was a grenade, until he settled himself on the futon directly behind my head. CVF and COF were sent to bed fairly soon, but the rest of the squirrelly bunch stayed on. Ben, Greg, and Dani were full of silly stories, assisted by ALF, about the skink the boys had caught that evening (“It bit Greg, so Papa said, ‘Hmm, must be a female!’”), about ridiculous old sci fi movies they’d watched, about Dr. Who, about monsters, etc. ECF and I sat and laughed and laughed, glanced at each other every so often, and laughed more.

Mr. F finally joined the party. He evicted Greg from the “throne” and told Dani and the boys to go to bed. They tumbled off the sofa and sprawled on the floor, and it took some persuading to get them to go to their beds. After they left, Mr. Fisher, Ruth, ALF, ECF, and I sat around for a little while longer. Mr. F asked for a story from N.I., so I told one that kept everyone laughing; then he told a story about his drive back from CA this past weekend, on which a tire had blown out on the trailer they’d been hauling, and the spare had been locked inside the trailer, setting off an interesting train of events.

I finally left at about half ten, with jolly good nights all round. Outside, the evening was cool and clear. Tipping my chin up, I stared into the face of the sky overhead, scattered with pale summer stars. I drove back home very happy, listening to Dvorak’s Serenade for Strings with the windows down and the sound of the tall grass rushing through the windows. After I switched off the engine in the driveway, I stood outside for a little while. Fireflies were flashing in the deep blackness of the oak trees behind the house, and overhead the stars seemed brighter. Indoors, M was waiting up for D, who was still away at a session meeting. I said good-night to her, took a shower, and was in bed by half eleven.