Do you remember the Village People?

I sit out here on the back porch sometimes and think about them.

I wonder where they are and what they’re doing and if they are still wearing cowboy hats
and Indian headdresses and staying at the YMCA.  Did they end up starring in their own videos or
ABC movies or start an exercise craze or maybe become CEO of a leather chaps company?

Or just join the Navy?

 

 

And sometimes I feel like the Village People live here.

Except instead of cowboy hats and construction gear they are wearing pearls and high heels and a tutu or two.

Or a pair of knee-high water boots.

Or they are carrying a skate board.

 

 

But there are so many projects and plans and inventions and tiny pieces of paper floating around that it wouldn’t surprise me if
one day my “villagers”  formed their very own group and took it on the road….tutu skirts, skateboards knee hight boots and all.

The other day I sat on the porch and watched as my husband calmly directed the antics and general pandemonium of our ”village people” starter kit.

 

 

In one corner someone was starting  a wildlife sanctuary with cardboard boxes and “natural habitats” for a frog and a daddy-long-legs and
a turtle.  There were heaps of grass for the residents to eat and a few dead bugs and fresh water and I think one of the twins even gave their brother
a chair from the dollhouse for the turtle to sit on.

I know the Nashville zoo would have been proud.

 

 

Over here another “villager” was constructing the longest genealogy chart known to man.  There were grandparents and great-great grandparents
and cousins and second cousins and eighth cousins twice removed.

All on a lime-green chart.

That stretched from one end of the porch to the other.

In Spanish.

Really?

You heard me.  Spanish.

He definitely likes a challenge……that miniature genealogist of mine.

 

 

So there I sat.

On my back porch.

Drinking tea.

As my husband directed the egg project and the skateboard ramp and the wildlife sanctuary and went and looked up how to say great-great -great-
great-great grandmother in Spanish.

All the while looking so handsome and calm and collected and generally in charge of all the village people  goings on.

And my heart smiled.

 

 

My heart smiled because I knew that one day, when the village people had their reunion tour.  The would never forget these
carefree days in the backyard and the gift of the ability to create.

Whatever.

Whenever.

Then they would remember when they could feel the grass between their toes and the wildlife sanctuary looked like it had great potential
and they could speak Spanish and there were all the pieces of paper they could ever need or want to for any project.  Ever.

And as my husband stood there in the midst of such utter pandemonium, our eyes met and I saw that twinkle that made me fall in love with him and I couldn’t help but tell him….

“You look just like a CEO.”

 

 

He looked back at me with a grin and laughed the laugh of a father who has seen it all…..

…..standing in the middle of that green field with the sun shining and the wind blowing and the birds chirping.

 

Then he shrugged, winked and without missing a beat replied,

“The CEO of chaos.”

And turned his baseball cap around and walked away to once again, direct the pandemonium.

Chaos.  Hmmmm.

The CEO of chaos.  Maybe he’s right.

But from where I’m sitting chaos looks pretty wonderful to me

PS  Thanks for all the sweet words about the new website.  It has been a work in progress with a few bumps along the way.  Unfortunately,
I lost all the e-mail subscribers from the other feed.  If you want to continue to read about the village people and wildlife sanctuaries and
turtles and the people who love them, please sign-up on the sidebar in the e-mail box

PPS  I am linking this to Rhoda’s Porch Party.