Reconnected (Part 2)

Ever so much happened while I was unable to write. In fact I may have to write a few times a day for a while just to keep you current.

One of the biggest things for our family is that we did connect. Let me explain.

When we first moved to the hill, we bought a television antenna, but were stymied about how and where to attach it to this old house. It just didn't seem to fit and so many other things needed doing that the antenna was hoisted to the rafters of the tractor shed (now, bio-diesel shed) and forgotten for three years while we repaired fences, the roof, and cleaned up after Katrina.

As the opening ceremonies for the Olympics were being telecast, my children were sullen. "The Olympics are every four years and everybody is watching." When we went to town people kept asking, "Did you watch the ceremonies?", "Have you seen the gymnastics?", and other choice questions. My lovely children, with pitiful faces, always said the same thing, "We don't have TV. Mom doesn't like it." At this point all eyes would turn toward me. True, I hadn't missed the television, but I had never banished it, or withheld defining moments from my children. In fact, we owned an antenna. All someone had to do was install it. Since no one made an effort and I was perfectly happy without television service, I was made into the fall guy.

Neither child noticed that there was another party involved. In fact, that other party frequently made me into the fall guy, while complaining about not being able to watch sports.

Anyway.

Since the Olympics seemed so important to everyone, I suggested that since we used to have satellite internet service (before the phone company convinced me I would have better service with them) and the cable was still running from that ugly pole, hidden from view by a tree, to the house, that someone could erect the antenna in that pole. K, the action man that he is, dragged down the antenna and began assembling the unwieldy contraption. Mr. W brought home an enormous iron pole, pushed the pole into place with the help of a neighbor, fastened some wires, and like magic . . . .

We were connected to the rest of the world.

The first thing we saw was Michael Phelps swim. Every night for the remaining week and a half, we turned on the television and watched, savoring that connection to others who might be sharing the moment.

This week we watched the Democratic Convention - savoring well-chosen words and energy.