M. Giant's
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Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks


Saturday, February 20, 2010  

Cold and Dark

As I write this, it's February 20th a date that has been much on my mind of late. It's not just because it's now officially Late February, with all its accompanying connotations of the Minnesotan winter being almost half over and patches of pavement peeking damply up at the sky here and there. Although I suppose the symbolism of renewal and hope is certainly apropos.

This date has been on our refrigerator for some time. It's on a homemade business card that a young woman left behind at the end of an unannounced visit back in January. A visit that was itself a lifeline of portent in those even colder, even darker days.

The legend printed at the top bears a message of deliverance no less powerful, in their way, than the Twenty-third Psalm, although in much fewer words. These words are:

GIRL SCOUT COOKIES
Delivery Dates: Feb 20 to Mar 15

There's a photo of the young angel herself, who has gazed out at us these many days with such constancy and steadiness, as if saying, "Hold on. I'll come back. And when I do, everything will be all right."

I recall her first visit well. It was a lethargic Sunday afternoon. Trash, M. Edium, and I were sitting around the kitchen table, listening to the frigid wind whistle past outside with its grim freight of claimed souls, debating in the slate-colored daylight whether the frost patterns on the window looked more like the ruins of Hiroshima or the Ebola virus, when the doorbell rang. Needing only a visit from a persistent petition-flogger or a door-to-door vivisectionist to make this day complete, I fatalistically flung open the door, and heard the one sales pitch in the world to which I have no resistance whatsoever.

"Would you like to buy some Gi--"

Trash was at my side in a flash, inviting the youthful seraphim and her beatific attendant inside to make the order while I dashed upstairs to find where we've been keeping the checks since we went to online bill-pay.

"How many Thin Mints should we order?" I heard her calling up after me, her voice Dopplering sharply.

"All of them!" I hollered back.

But Trash, being of a cooler head, reminded me that there would be other opportunities this year. All the coworkers she buys them from, for instance.

But in our frenzy of joy, we'd forgotten that we are both working from home now, and thus have no coworkers to buy from. At least not until we get M. Edium into the Girl Scouts. So we didn't realize we'd put in a ridiculously small order until too late.

But even the fourteen boxes we ordered are something to look forward to. Now that the day foretold by the prophecy is at hand, we can now spend all our days on the front step, awaiting our second visitation, letting our spirits rise every time we hear a knock at the door, or the doorbell, or somebody walking down our street, or the sun coming up.

That business card also has a phone number on it, and it's going to be difficult not to call it for updates. Hourly.

And this is because, out of the Thin Mints we ordered last year, I'm down to two little cookies, waiting in the freezer, and I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to leave them alone.

posted by M. Giant 8:41 PM 2 comments

2 Comments:

As not only the mother of a newly minted Daisy Scout this year, but also as the newly minted leader of said child's Daisy troop, I appreciate and applaud your support of the Girl Scout Cookie sales.

Also, if you find yourself running short on cookies, we have a supply of leftovers out on our lanai (which is a semi-ironic name for the back porch, seeing as how we live in the relatively frigid climes of western, upstate NY and therefore our "lanai" is actually more of a "room-sized deep freezer" for about 6 months a year), so I could hook you up with some Thin Mints in case of emergency. Considering you totally beat us in the Neverending Winter category, I get how such an emergency might arise.

Hope your doorbell rings soon!

By Blogger Heather, at February 21, 2010 at 8:31 AM  

Mine arrive Tuesday. I am agog. Agog! I tell you.

By Blogger Phyllis S, at February 21, 2010 at 4:55 PM  

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