WHIM FLIT

            In the dwelling, the so restless dwelling, no peace before the morning light... 

            "Are you mad at me, Tessy?"

            At desolate kitchen island Tess fought drink flinging urge, emphatically clunked down lukewarm mug of creme brulee coffee. "Now Theodore, what inapt reason could possibly propel our wedded bliss into the Land of Irkdom?"

            "Irkdom?" Ted slid onto stool next Tess.

            "The point where displeasure meets disappointment, Ted." Elbow next coffee on island, Tess sighed, rubbed right temple neath dark hair a muss.

            "So, we are not at the point of no return, but experiencing turbulence." Ted smiled, added, "No way to fly a paper plane airline, Tessy."

            "That little boy smile of yours and semi-handsome good looks are not getting you out of this one, mister whim-flit."

            "So now I'm a what, dimwit?" Ted feigned indignation.

            "Whim-flit, not dimwit, Teddy. You are intelligent, considering you're a man," she chuckled, "but your brain darts like a honey bee from flower to flower, flutters like a butterfly on the evening breeze, flicks like a squirrel tail at pecan burial. I'm talking spur of the moment ditsy whim-flit mania."

            "Well I tad near never!" Little boy grin dimpled Ted chin. "Umbridge, Tess, umbridge is a bridge full a potholes."

            "But..." Tess lips gave up smile of their own.

            "But I'm a whim-flit?"

            "Pretty much so."

            "Might help if I knew what a whim-flit is, you think?"

            "Thought you'd never ask." Tess raised left brow. "You might be a whim-flit if you flick, flutter, frisk, maybe even whisk from flower to thorn." Tess punctuated with head cocked nod.

            "Ah, so you said I am a beautiful butterfly?" Ted fluttered butterfly lashes, celebrated selective hearing. 

            Mid coffee sip, Tess near spit, choked it down, recuperated, spit words instead. "Teddy, you are beautiful, but," she tilted head back to better cast schoolmarm glare down freckled nose, "but Teddy, you have the propensity to act on impulse, to indulge in urge, to tend toward notion, fancy and dream. Capriciousness, foilability and even fickleness may at times be deemed cute, yet even a tasty tart lemon in time spoils sour."

            "Not just a sour lemon, a spoiled sour lemon, eh. Well let me tell you something little missy. You are smart, cute verging on gorgeous and tasty as sweet fig preserves on warm buttered toast."

            "Fig jam?" Tess near giggled.

            "Fig preserves." Ted eyed Tess. Tess eyed Ted. "And you know what I do to my favorite fig of all?" Ted wiggled semi-bushy brow, aimed puckering lips toward Tess ticklish neck.

            "Stay away fig boy!" Tess cocked head, dipped chin, neck to protect.

            Ted's hypnotic breath warmed Tess throat, raised dipped chin, and Ted should a stayed with plan, but the ill advised spilled out typical male mouth, "Now Tessy, you say your husband suffers from WFS, Whim Flit Syndrome, yet little is the evidence of wings of flit or flutter, nor bushy squirrel tail a flick or a frisk. Therefore, ergo, and to wit there be no basis for whim-flit castigation." Ted punctuated with unwise grin.

           "Ah, but flit, flutter, flick and frisk only begins to describe what my tush did swimming in the shadow of forgotten and unclosed toilet seat this very night!"

            "Ooops!" Grin fled Ted lips. 

            "I was so mad at you." Tears near welled in Tess green eyes.

            "I apologize, Tessy." Her Teddy hugged her. "I would have been upset too." He kissed her forehead, sincerely plead, "Please find it in you heart to forgive me; and please know my transgression  was no on-purpose whim, but half asleep unintended err of oops."

            Tess made cozy nest of Ted chest. Snuggled closer than close. The Good Book did quote, "Jesus teaches us that if you forgive others their trespasses, our heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you forgive not others their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father forgive your trespasses."

            And as the err of oops faded away: Tess kissed her Teddy. Ted kissed his Tess. And as their hug grew closeness, Tess so blessed breathed prayer, "Thank you heavenly Father for my Teddy. Thank you for this beautiful man. For does not your creation the bee dart and whisk from flower to flower to make honey? Does not the flit and frisk of the squirrels tail shine praise for your provision of pecan and tree? Does not the flutter of your butterfly bring bright your joy? Please guide us by your Light our every flit, flutter and frisk. May our every word and deed reflect your love. Thank you heavenly Father. In Jesus name we ask and pray."

            And near morning light Tess and her Ted found peaceful rest... blessed blissful dream...

            Be not a wave tossed in the sea of whim... seek safe harbor in the arms of Jesus...    

            Matthew 11:28-30 KJV Jesus speaking, "Come unto me, all yea who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and yea shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

            John 8:12 Jesus speaking: "I am the light of the world; he that follows me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life." 

            Tess quoted Matthew 6:14-15 KJV the two verses following the Lord's Prayer (forgiveness) 

                   

            

     

   

SILENT VALLEY LANE

                 Not so silent that echo down Silent Valley Lane, a sweet and sour serenade, a soft song to tag along, a tree line trail with quaint tale to tell... that not so silent echo down Silent Valley Lane...

                Neath thatched cottage roof eyebrow eave, two calico kitty cat pets grace window stoop, wink out latticed panes over perch filled lily pad pond, where pines a whisper breathe fresh breeze breath, a heaven scent, a sans lament, rolling along with that not so silent echo... down Silent Valley Lane...

                On tree spotted hill wee cottage sings, 'I wannabe a bungalow.' Sings desire from heart of family room where two etched in henna intertwined roses grace knotty pine wall. But oops, oh my, oh no, and aw-shucks, beneath those intertwined wall flower roses, sit a non-intertwined couple on a once upon a time loveseat.

                "Theodore, we are not selling our home!" Tess yodeled echo through hills and down Silent Valley Lane.

                "But..." Ted would have pled.

                "No!" Arms folded tight to bosom, Tess with full pink lips askew more than puffed at stray fair hair strand.

                "You might just listen..."

                "No!" Size seven and a half leather moccasin sole punctuated hard wood floor.

                "But the offers are mega-licious and frequent, Tess." Ted ran exasperated fingers through grey shock of dark brown hair.

                "Because why, Ted? Why are people tossing money at us? Why?"

                "Location plays part."

                "That is correct, goof head, rolling foot hills, mountains in the backdrop, spring fed pond, cottage picturesque, and a paved Silent Valley Lane below, all are precious part of this place called home." Tess rubbed crick in neck.

                "Yes, but we need more space." Ted massaged Tess freckled nape. 

                "Yes," Tess sighed, as tension in neck faded way.

                "Yes?" Ted knew Tess yes often carried heavy laden amendments, perilous clauses, mandatory capitulation, and it all better be sealed with husband's approving and sincere smile.

                "Yes, we need more space," Tess matter-of-facted.

                Ted answered Tess echo down Silent Valley Lane with well practiced smile. A smile sparked to near snicker by internal pun, "When Moe Mentum is wed to Amanda Tory, married life demands quick adaptation."    

                "Yep, for my home based realty business more room is a must. Plus my resident writer hubby has creative needs for alternating quiet solitude and music loud enough to wake the dead."

                "So the prettiest realtorette in Silent Valley finds us the perfect move?"

                "How bout stunningly cute, vivacious realtor and bordering on genius amateur architect creates calico kitty cat pet friendly plans for expansion."

                "I thought about that very alternative, but drew a blank on how to preserve the quaintness of the cottage and country setting." Ted voiced concern. Yet he gathered hope, for as annoying as Tess's know-it-all notions sometimes were, she proved usually right. "And how true," he silently mused, "how true the rose be petal and thorn, lest it be thornless, and so be helpless."

                And lo, so low descended the sun, till night blanketed evening shadows. And there in the inner light of the cottage called home, neath rain in bath shower, be the Ted. A Ted having a bit more than a spot a trouble reaching mid shoulders with soap. But then, so tenderly then, he felt lithe hands caress with suds a bless, and husband and wife under shower rain washed away the grit of one feisty day.

                Just a tad in time later, a giggling two dropped towels to floor, fell in bed, pulled up the covers, kissed and snuggled too. And Tess soft breath blew prayer past Ted ear and into the ear of heaven, "Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for blessing my Teddy and I with each other. Thank you for providing our precious home and growing businesses. Please guide us as to how we can accommodate that growth with the space needed. Thank you especially for Jesus. In Jesus name we ask, we pray." They kiss, they snuggle, they sleep, they dream... the Good Shepherd watches over...

                More than a dream, a month or two passed. Ted had his writer needs simply blessed. He kept his familiar bedroom desk. Tess bought him a high-tech set of headphones for his alternating need of solitude and loud music. And Ted fulfilled a visionary gift given to the heart of Tess: a nest with familiar view.

                So that wannabe-a-bungalow wee country cottage grew; the forgotten attic converted into a realty office comfy and bright. Bright by the light of two newly added dormer windows. Windows, where calico kitty cat pets wink out thatch browed panes overlooking perch filled lily pad pond. Windows to pines a whisper breathing fresh breeze breath, a heaven scent, a sans lament, a snuggles and sighs sweet serenade, a soft song to tag along, a tree line trail with quaint tale to tell... that not so silent echo down Silent Valley Lane... not so silent echo... down Silent Valley Lane... 

                Galatians 3:26... Ye are children of God by faith in Christ Jesus...

                John Chapter 10 verses 1 thru 30...  "The Good Shepherd"

                Psalm 150 verse 6... Let everything that hath breath praise the LORD....