Tuesday, March 1, 2011

It Ain't No Tall Tale: A Brief History Of Fissure Fest

Alternate title: (Why the big party?)

Late last Autumn, nearing Thanksgiving time, (in 2009) the dearest, younguns and I were mindin' our own business in our beautiful home in the west. We had no idea that our hearts were about to be ripped out, our lives turned inside out and having to work as hard as we could in fighting the mighty fissure. And thanks to Him, we have survived and even have had our hearts replaced with bigger models. And that Gratitude is the reason for Fissure Fest.

But, I get ahead of myself. Let me tell you our very short story...

We had a nice piece of land, a two story house and a little pup to keep us company. I tell you sir, that we had worked that land for just a mite bit over five years and it was the most beautiful landscaped property any soul had ever seen. The property contained many beautiful gardens that had a magical feeling about them. And, I have it on good authority that hundreds of little fairies even visited some of the gardens. Trees lined the property producing the mightiest good tastin' fruit. Plums, peaches, limes, lemons, tomatoes, peppers and more easily grew from the trees and our gardens. Even the plants grew to create play houses for the kids. The land was truly blessed.


Now, to say it was an oasis would be a bit of an exaggeration. EVERYONE knows that an oasis has palm trees and a lake. We didn't have neither.


A few days before I was to wrastle, skin and kill with my bare hands the largest bird anyone had ever seen besides Kevin from UP in order to celebrate our blessin's, the wife and I saw lighting come down from heaven and received a note from the Almighty with His new number on the back.


Now I don't often hear from Him out of the blue like that. Normally when we speak one of us is calling collect, but this time it came un-solicited-like. So I called on His dime, and He told us to pack up the younguns and move far away.

Yessir, we felt there was no alternative. We did as we were told. Except when we got there, we had a problem. Our home was within a half mile of Mr. Y Fissure. Not that Mr. Fissure lived next door, but he has been calling us a few times, and has even drafted some five-feet-tall ground squirrels to torment us and scare our kiddos and pup.


Needless to say, we had a couple of sleepless nights that winter as we waited for news from geologists, state and county workers and insurance companies before we bought that home. In the end the Almighty spoke to our hearts and we knew through that unspeakable peace that this is where we needed to be. We tried to argue, but He came up the most perfect argument any human had ever heard. I hate arguing with Deity because of that one reason: All my arguments are human, His Ain't. He didn't necessarily promise to protect us, but told us to fight for our very survival. And so we have. And we might've even won a few battles against those darned squirrels.


Mercy me! Now when we moved in, we vowed that each year we survived the fissure, we would hold a party to celebrate the victory. We would invite our old friends who we miss dearly and new friends we have made.

Tarnation, I swear that this story is true. I never exaggerate. Plus, I swear it on the sixth toe on my left foot.



3 comments:

Randibee said...

H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S.!!!!

scarves said...

Thank you for your hard work to collect and organize, to share with you a lot about the fashion thing, and this is very useful to me.

Next year will be better this year, a slight malaise and fatigue
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alex said...

what a sink hole.. its really scary...

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