The parfait chuckle
Dick MacKenzie - www.dickshideaway.com
It’s a parfait day here on the shore of Pelican Lake. The cloud colors at sunset are ripe with pleasures of serenity and calm. The sight inspires my optimism during these dark days of happy times to come, not all at once, but sooner than we dare to think.
I’m reminded of a moment 30 years ago when Mary and I had a week open at one of our outpost camps. We moved in and cherished our own mini vacation.
On the last day of our stay we hauled our gear from the cabin down to the boats for our departure. At the same time guests were arriving and carrying their treasures from the boat to their upcoming slice of paradise.
I struggled on one trip to the boats, carrying as far from my face as I could, the full porta potty we had used that week. It was heavy and slushy.
“Ah! I know what that is,” shouted one guest, pointing at the toilet, smiling as we crossed paths on the trail. “It’s an ice cream maker, isn’t it!”
My hopes of holding my breath for just a few seconds longer were shot.
Over the years I’ve laughed and laughed, and joked about churning parfaits on a warm, sunny day at camp.
And tonight, delighting in our parfait sky, I chuckle in remembrance of that strange moment, and remind myself that I can bathe in beauty or flail around in stink.
I wish you sweet parfait, my friends.