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A Vacuum, Chaos or a Spider

Digging into the deep recesses of my mind, I remember there exists some law, or property about a vacuum.  I think I learned about it in chemistry in high school, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was introduced to me in physics, seeing as I pretty much failed those classes.

The law, or property, or whatever-it-is went like this:  if there is a vacuum (like a void in space, NOT a Dirt Devil, or Dyson), air will always try and move in.  In other words, the vacuum won't stay empty if at all possible.

Crazy how that idea works with life too.

We are headed on our annual pilgrammage to Interlochen.  I'll be there for four weeks, and then John will join me.

This summer, I put my foot down about projects.  Actually, that's a lie.  I'm the one who always "suggests" the projects, so I take full responsibility for all the work and stress I have given to John.  It's easy to be the visionary, hard to be the implementer.

For the past five summers, John has worked into the night, finishing massive projects on our property.  He has laid more brick than the people of Oz, he has dug enough holes to make it to China, and he has done more for forestry than Paul Bunyan.  He has built a custom shed while taking care of 16 active puppies (who were still too young to go to their new homes).  All this while working a crazy number of hours in his practice and serving as a counselor in the stake presidency in a stake that spans a four-hour drive.

I said that this summer, we were taking a break.  Yes, he has a few simple things to do around the house like fix the cracked sideboard in our antique bed, and reattach the trellis for our (very) climbing hydrangea, jobs that would probably stress out any other higher-educated man.  He has been insanely stressed about work lately, and I didn't want him to worry about anything else while we were gone.

Remember that law about the vacuum?

There was of course a vacuum in John's already hectic life.  An empty space.  I was hoping he could fill it with chocolate bars at night followed by a movie chaser.  Shoot, maybe he could even get more than six hours of sleep!

Glo and I left for Michigan yesterday.  We were one hour out (and just getting onto I-80) when the transmission in our 2003 Honda Element failed.  Thankfully, we limped home (or jerked home would be a better explanation), but as soon as we got out of the car, I could see the stress on John's face.  Why?  Because John is a man's man, and a cheapskate, and the two combined mean that he won't be taking the car to the dealer.  He's going to fix it himself.

Cue that darn air that always feels the need to move into the vacuum.

So, as Glo and I prepare to try this trip again (our Camry hybrid isn't going to know what hit it when it begins the drive with three bikes strapped to the back of it), I pray for my honey.  This was the last thing he needed in his life right now.  While the girls and I will be enjoying the idyllic life in "the land of the stately pines", John will be working harder than ever here at home.

Stupid vacuum.  I knew we should have built another patio.

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