#90 The circus & TV time with Mother Goose.

(even more haunting is the Masterpieces of Terror and the Supernatural book behind it.. tools of the trade for a youth minister)

Today, Ben went with Josh to do some old car stuff (I have no idea what they did all day, it just involved a 1966 Galaxie and a bunch of other cars), and he came home with a treasure. It’s the most curious brass music box sculpture of a Ferris wheel and a little sideshow booth with flags and balloons and a little gate. He was so proud when he walked in the door, covered in dirt and sweat and holding it out to me with a big smile on his face. To wind it, you turn the Ferris wheel back several times, then let go. It turns ever so slowly, the little carts on the ride, falling and rising as it turns, and it plays the most haunting melody. A sticker on the back says the song is called Send in the Clown, and it sounds like a soft, forlorn, slow piano solo, or the monkey music box from The Phantom of the Opera. He loves to find unique plunder that only we can appreciate, and I love him for being so constantly thoughtful. Now it’s right at home on the new bookcase in the hall.

In other news, this is the week of mammaw talk, so I might as well talk about her one more time this week. I mean she only turns 87 once, I think she deserves it, right?

Tonight I went to see her for a while before I headed to mama and daddy’s (2 doors down). When I pulled up, she was walking in the yard with Susie, her enormous coon dog/mutt/best friend and seeing what’s starting to bloom. We talked about her flowers and her yard for a bit, then went inside to chat when this show I’ve been wanting to see was just coming on. It’s on NBC and it’s called Minute to Win it and it. Is. FASCINATING. My grandmother who usually just turns on the TV for background noise was pulled in with me, and we were on the edge of our seats rooting for Rachel, the 24 year old nanny who was killing every challenge and rapidly moving up the ranks to win $1,000,000. The most tedious of the challenges involved blowing bubbles and using only your breath to blow it about 15 feet and through a 1-foot wide hoop. Of COURSE they cut to commercial the moment it looks like the bubble may or may not make it through the hoop, and my precious, tiny, classy, graceful grandmother may or may not have let an expletive slip. Oh, quality time. I do love hanging out with Mother Goose.