September 6: Past, Present, and Future

"I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!" Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed.  "The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me.  Old Jacob Marley!  Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this!  I say it on my knees, old Jacob, on my knees!"

Yes, I have returned to one of the passages that inspired my year-long adventure in blogging about A Christmas Carol.  Scrooge is embracing change in his life.  He has seen his future, and it wasn't very pleasant.  He needs to do something, or else he's going to end up on the wrong side of a gravestone very shortly.

I'm not a person who embraces change easily.  (For disciples who have been following this blog for a while, this should come as no surprise.  I mentioned this morning to a coworker that I wasn't a big fan of change.  Her response:  "You're kidding.  I never would have realized that."  Imagine huge eyes and a sarcastic smile accompanying that statement.)  No, change and I do not often break bread together.  Generally, I have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, to the table when Change is the dinner guest.

My wife starts her new job today.  She has to be there around 11:30 a.m.  I'm really happy for her.  I can embrace this change.  It will be great for my wife's self-esteem, and it will be great for our finances.  Unfortunately, this job may mean that she won't be able to go on our family vacation to the Wisconsin Dells in October.  We talked about this possibility last night.  Of course, it's going to be very disappointing if she can't accompany us.  We have to go in October; it's for a dance convention for my daughter.  There's no changing the dates.

This would be an example of Change being both good and bad.  I have a niece who is currently studying abroad in Costa Rica.  She's been preparing for this semester for quite a while.  Well, she got there a few days ago, and an earthquake rocked the country a day ago.  She's fine, wasn't even near the epicenter.  However, she is a victim of the good and bad of change.  She's loving the country and the parrot who curses in Spanish in her house; she's not that fond of a glass building shaking and shivering while she's in a classroom on its second floor.  Good and bad.

So, the upshot of this post is:  wife's new job, good; wife not going on vacation, bad.

Saint Marty wonders if Scrooge ever regretted raising Bob Cratchit's salary.

Bad change

September 3: Labor Day, Niece in Costa Rica, "Carol" Dip Monday

Happy Labor Day!  It was nice sleeping in a little this morning.  Actually, I slept in almost four hours past my normal alarm clock time (4 a.m.).  I'm feeling quite rested, even if I did just go for a two-and-a-half-mile run, pushing my three-year-old son in a stroller.  I'm ready to face the day.  Almost.  I still have to finish this blog post and take a shower.

I just read the first couple of posts on my niece's new blog.  She is spending a semester in Costa Rica, and she is writing about her experiences in Latin American.  She, at the moment, is still adjusting to her new life.  She's living with a parrot that speaks Spanish.  She's not quite sure what the parrot is saying.  It could be swearing at her, or making lewd comments.  She isn't quite sure.

Since it is Monday, it is time for another Carol dip.  You know, I can't believe that I've been writing about A Christmas Carol for almost nine months now.  I never thought I'd make it this far.  But, I did vow last December to keep Christmas alive every day of the year, and I try to stay true to my word.  Usually.  Any how, I have a few things on my mind today.  I'm just going to pick the one that has been preoccupying me for a good portion of this past week:

Will I find a publisher for my new collection of poems soon?

And the answer from the great book of Dickens is:

Not a latent echo in the house, not a squeak and scuffle from the mice behind the panelling, not a drip from the half-thawed water-spout in the dull yard behind , not a sigh among the leafless boughs of one despondent poplar, not the idle swinging of an empty store-house door, no, not a clicking in the fire, but fell upon the heart of Scrooge with softening influence, and gave a freer passage to his tears.

OK, so Scroobe is weeping in this paragraph.  He's looking at the school he used to attend as a child, and the description is not very pleasant at all.  Mice.  Despondent poplar.  Leafless boughs.  Freer passage to his tears.  It doesn't look like I'm going to be getting a publisher for my manuscript any time soon.

Excuse Saint Marty while he slips out the back door to cry by the empty store-house.



I know how George feels