(The Harder They Fall) Jimmy Cliff
Several trees have fallen on my mother’s house and barn in the past six months. I happened to be standing 10 feet away and witnessed the trees coming down on the barn. The barn is now gone and has been replaced. One night, a tree fell directly over my head onto the house. It was extremely loud.
My mother is really hoping that the next tree that falls will take out the porch so that she can continue with the home improvements all the recent damage has provided. Unfortunately she is forced to hold back her prayers. As her house is very tiny, I sleep on the porch most nights leaving the lone spare bedroom for my sons. She doesn’t want to be implicated in my crushing – a probable event as the trees have already shown a menacing attraction for me.
My boys say “Have fun skiing!” every night as I put on my layers to get ready for bed: socks, pajama bottoms, another pair of socks, tee-shirt, long sleeve shirt, cashmere sweater, another pair of bottoms, synthetic fluffy pull over, and on really sub-cold days a hat and scarf. I get into the frosty bed, and…it thaws. There is always a moment about 10 minutes in where I get a chill, almost as if my body has forgotten to keep some of its own heat after warming the bed. But the balance restores. I really like it. I love the cold air and the weight of the covers on top of me. We did try to insulate the room giving it a kind of 2001: Space Odyssey feel with silver panels along the lower walls and thick sheets of (despite our best attempts) slightly undulating plastic over the windows which comprise the entire top half of the walls. It remains however an unheated, quasi-insulated room. I sleep soundly every night my dreams let me.
“Are you insane?” is the refrain I hear the most. Not if the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. Not anymore. But the falling is hard…