A JOYFUL NOISE

Ah – the interwoven yellow and orange and red of a crackling wood fire – the return of the season where we sit and bask in its cozy warmth. The chimney sweep paid us his yearly visit yesterday (actually, it should read I paid HIM for his yearly visit yesterday!). He was no longer done and gone than Grump and I hauled wood upstairs. Well, Grump brings a couple of pieces of cedar kindling; I carry the logs.

The Bird was lying in his bed, pretending to be focused on the TV. Once again his friend had not shown up as promised, and she wasn’t answering her phone when he called. I knew it was bugging him; he feels extremely vulnerable when she does that. Anyone in his position would feel the same.

I strolled into his room with my announcement.

“It’s time you made yourself useful,” I said. His gaze switched to me, his surprise indicated by raised eyebrows. I elaborated. “You know that box of CDs I mentioned the other day?” He remembered. He began the slow preparations necessary to get up and about.

Talk to a musician about music, and it’s pretty much a given that his attention will be all yours. Soon there we were – the Bird and Grump and me – installed comfortably on the sofas beside the fire, fresh coffee in hand…and that huge box of jumbled CDs between us.

This box has been bugging me for ages. Every loose CD found lying around in any part of the house, the garage, the office, or the cars had been gathered up and shoved into it with the notion that I would find time to organize them somehow. Many were mixed copies burned and received from friends, some from my brother himself, with no labeling information. Others were just loose, or had been hurriedly stuck into whichever jacket that was on hand, not necessarily the right one…and the box was one of two! It was a mess!

Bird is a whiz when it comes to music. More times than not he can rhyme off not only the tune, but also the name of the artist doing it. The whole family on my father’s side is musically inclined; they can play various instruments and have sweet singing voices. I believe I am the only sibling who wasn’t included in that bank of talent; my calling in that domain is limited to loving nearly all types, and knowing what I like to hear.

Time passed as we worked together – Bird naming the tune and artist while I made lists to insert in the CD jacket. I would press the button to skip forward to the next song…then the next. Occasionally one of us would say ‘Hey, wait – haven’t heard that for awhile. Let it play through!’, and we’d sit back to enjoy that particular special sound. At one point I started to sing along. Bird glanced over at me, his expression inscrutable.

“What?” I asked. “Am I that bad?” He thought about it for a moment.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it bad,” he answered. Then added – “But I wouldn’t call it singing neither.” His face was serious as he studied my hurt expression. He grinned. “It’s more like…a joyful noise.”

That darned Bird managed to duck in time again, and the plastic CD jacket I let go flew right by him to land on an innocent sleeping Grump. The startled dog lifted his head to stare at us, then relaxed… we were both SMILING.

Luv from The Bush in Quebec