Blog, interrupted...

One of the first creative writing assignments I was given in middle school was to choose what superpower I would want to possess, and to give examples of how I would use it to better mankind.

Sequestered in a florescent-lit room with twenty other "gifted" students (insert: "nerds"), I wrote a seminal dissertation on the topic: "The Ability to Stop and Start Time". Dorian Gray, Mrs. Havisham, Sleeping Beauty, even dear, dead Eva Peron, lying gooey-dewey skinned in a state of perpetual youth, all did their part to make me feel this was the penultimate super-power, second only to "Bring About World Peace". (Of course, I didn't want to write about "World Peace". I knew several of the brown-nosers in class would choose that topic - BORING!)

I remember getting a 'B' or 'C' on the assignment simply because, as selfish as I was (well, am), I couldn't figure for the life of me how I would use this power to "help mankind" - though I did cite several ways I would help myself with my super-ability.

This week at Chestnut House made me wish I really had developed the ability to magically start and stop time. While designing costumes for four shows at three theaters in two weeks, several times I wanted to reach for a magic pocket-watch, punch the big button on top, and scream "STOP!"

As the dirty laundry piled up, the dishes stacked in the sink, and the detrius of daily life, dog, and husband threw themselves into piles in every corner of the house, I plodded by, half-finished costumes in hand. Trading mundane reality for glamorous stagecraft is easy at our house. There's never a question of what comes first here...theater pays the bills. The only price for ignored chores at home is a little bit of our well-being and sanity.

The most magical thing about Chestnut House, though, is that time does slow down here, even if it won't stop completely. No matter how hectic, how hurried, how hapless we are, there is always ten minutes to do the top seven lines of the crossword puzzle over a morning cup of coffee, or five minutes to hang out with Atticus on the front porch, or even an evening hour to watch Masterpiece Theatre on PBS, huddled and cuddled under our electric blanket.

Were I given the same assignment today as I was two decades ago in school, my topic would be a little different. I would choose from "The Ability To Embrace and Enjoy the Time I'm Given", "The Ability to Appreciate Every Moment Spent With the People I Love", or "The Ability to Spontaneously Produce Botox Around My Eyes and Forehead."

Until next week...

Jon (and Ron And Atticus)