A Quiet Day

 October 24, 2020

Before his scandal-based downfall, “It’s been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon” was the famous opening line of Garrison Keillor’s weekly monologue at the end of his wildly popular PBS show. I was saddened to hear of it’s cancellation; even more of the accusations that led to it. Keillor was creative and funny without being coarse or vulgar, and his “down home” show featured a style of music and performance that hasn’t been seen since. We knew when we heard those words, we were in for a treat. 

I think one of the reasons his show was so popular was in how it took us back to simpler and slower times. Even sophisticated urbanites enjoyed his wit as he poked kindly fun at Minnesotan Lutherans and the other solid citizens who populated his imaginary town. Whenever I have a day like today, those words pop into my mind with the comfort of a warm fire on a cold winter evening. There was nothing outstanding about it; being a Saturday morning without grandkids sacked out in every corner of the house, we arose leisurely, I served Linda her favorite breakfast—in bed! and began the day. 

I read my Bible before going outside to clean up the debris from the demolition of the old cellar entryway, and when Linda called, I bundled up for our grandson’s soccer game. Yesterday’s balmy 70 degrees had plummeted to the mid forties, but we showed up because we can. Our granddaughter Alex came by later for lunch in the garage. Her employer is quite worried over COVID, and as the tutor for his children, she is required to take special precautions, such as not going indoors when she comes to visit. Thankfully, a few years ago, Linda bought me a torpedo heater for Christmas, and even with the garage doors wide open, we were quite toasty. Alex actually said it’s the warmest her feet have been in quite awhile!

She left and I went back to work. Except for the cement blocks, it’s all cleaned up, ready for some real excavation and construction, which we hope will happen next month. 

See? It’s been a pretty sedate day. Like music, life is scored not only by the notes, but by the rests. Constant sound can become distracting, actually diminishing the effect of the composition. Music needs rests to keep in balance and build anticipation. Life is no different. We need the rests, the slower pace, to give balance and build anticipation for the next flurry of notes and change of tempo. While it lasts, the adagios prepare us for the allegros, allowing the mind and body to prepare for the next movement and the wave of the conductor’s baton. It’s coming, and days like today help me get ready as I keep my eyes glued to the Conductor. It’s been a quiet day in Sinclairville, but Sunday is coming, when the next movement begins.