Taking From Trees

As I sat there beneath the shade of the old oak tree thinking the thoughts that a father thinks I found myself lost against the waves of rolling wind and the sinking spiral of so many leaves.

Or I would have, had I time to sit beneath an oak tree and a flare for the poetic.

There are leaves that need a good turning and those that should just wilt and die.  Then there are those things you put in your table to make it bigger, but that only lasts for four hours.

Still, you've got to take what you can get.

I am at a turning point and it is not a metaphor.  It's more like a simile. 

The life I lead has been chaotic in terms of time and the management thereof.  It hasn't been pretty.

My wife and I both work at home, which sounds greatish.  We are able to do more as a family whenever such fancies strike us.  The thing is, fancies don't strike that often.  It's mostly a study in frustration and the art of the stink-eye.

Basically we spend every moment together and in doing so have come to appreciate the old quality over quantity argument.  Our time has been diluted by frivolous conversations and heated words that roll into avalanches of hellfire for no apparent reason.

It isn't any easier for the kids.  Sure, they have 24-hour access to their parents, but they also have 24-hour access to their parents.  The apron string may be frayed and covered in blood and dirt like so much dental floss, but it is still tied and it's only a matter of time before somebody gets clotheslined.  The limbo is overrated.

We are freshly moved and it is moving.  It is time to turn those leaves we've left floating for so long.  A summer breeze may feel cool upon the sweat of the brow, but it is still hot air and of that we've had enough.

Our family has been given an opportunity that many will never know, and time is not meant to be blown away- it is meant to carry us upon it, collecting memories like fistfuls of tickets.