A Brief Interlude (#19)

"It's only once a year, sir," pleaded Bob, appearing from the tank. "It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry, yesterday, sir."

~ Bob Cratchit to Ebenezer Scrooge upon arriving late to work on the day after Christmas, from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

(These people are making rather merry in this painting. I especially like the energy the female figure in the middle is giving off. IMHO, the painter captured her movement and emotion well. The Dance by Francesco Vinea)

The bolded part of that dialogue above is one of many lines from that story forever etched into my memory. Occasionally, I apply these phrases to something happening in my life. Today was one such situation. I celebrated Easter by visiting, at first, my parents and siblings. Then I followed it up with a trip around the block to my aunt, uncle, and two cousins who have children of their own. We all had fun. Around five in the evening, my wife, two daughters, and I were saying our goodbyes. That is when my one cousin mentioned my blog, and joked how I needed to get home in time to write up a post. 

Well, since, at that moment,  a quarter of my regular readers were standing in that kitchen, and my mind loves to conjure up wild connections, the above scene from A Christmas Carol emerged.  As I had been spending the day stuffing myself with ham, roasted vegetables, mac & cheese, cookies, cakes, and cannolis, and catching up with missed events, potential opportunities, and the latest gossip, my desire to blog waned proportionally. Then there was the thought of an hour-long car ride home. Unwashed laundry. Dirty dishes. An unfinished book. Blogging was the last thing I wanted to do tonight. Maybe I should just do it tomorrow. And, so, when confronted by my "bosses" (event the one who were not present) with my apparent "tardiness", I considered tossing out the phrase "[Apologies] I was making rather merry, today [sic], sir." 

Now, past experience has taught me to refrain from blurting out my thoughts. Most of the time I heed that lesson: quizzical looks and lengthy explanations seldom make for great conversations. This time, fortunately, I followed my own advice and remained silent.

But, I was not going to give up on my clever use of that quote. After all, it sounded good in my head. So, on the ride home, I decided to write up a blog post about that line.

And that is how you all ended up with this story. 

Happy Easter!