Our Newest Resident said something interesting to me today.
During a quiet moment, I asked him how he felt after being here a week. Was it what he had expected, or was it different? He said that he was feeling good, and after a while he said that actually he had been mentally prepared for endless back-breaking work and he was surprised that it wasn't that way.
This is a curious thing to me. This idea that living out here might be really hard. I've seen and heard it said many a time—in magazines, t.v. shows, and even this past week at a friend's house—that John Denver was wrong.
What? You think that's a little late? Not at all. It was just in time, if one considers the weather this winter (which anyone living in at least the Eastern US knows was no fun at all), and if one considers that some of the meetings contributors needed to come from two states away; I think it was pretty darn timely.
You might be wondering what stake someone two states away has in a meeting here in the great state of Tennessee. Well, it's like this . . .
The day before had been rain. Nothing but rain all the day long. Through the night I could hear the rain begin to freeze and the slishing sound of freezing rain filled my dreams. We woke up to a crystalline world with every branch and leaf coated with a thin layer of clear ice. Then set in the snow. In no time at all the grey glassine world was transformed to white. We spent the morning watching brilliant flakes blow off the roof in eddys and swirls. Then the call came, "No work tomorrow". Ah, Freedom! Let's go play!