I lay awake. Thinking of friends. Thinking of Christmas cards, and making tamales. And listening to Geoff cough. His cough rattles the rafters. I'd better make appointments for the boys; they should be over their colds by now too. Also, need to buy heavy paper to print our Christmas greetings, and I wonder whether I should make the boys as choir-like angels on the back of each card.
Thinking of teddy bear angels, and pigs with wings. But what about chickens? They already have wings. Do chickens fancy some other appendage? People have a strong affinity for the adoption of great feathery, heavenly wings, but chickens must long for something else. Perhaps opposable thumbs, or hands with fingers and thumbs. I picture a host of heavenly fowl all marveling at the sight of their 10 fingers and thumbs. Chickens could do handstands and pull pies out of ovens.
Will there be chickens in heaven? I'd rather have chickens than Pearly Gates. I have heard 'only people will be in heaven,' but what about all the Christmas cards depicting animals at the nativity? Not the donkeys and sheep in Bethlehem, but the mice or teddy bears posed as Mary and Joseph? What's up with that? Actually, I like cards with mice enjoying hot cocoa beside a roaring fire in a cozy mouse house at Christmas. But I don't like Chimpanzees in tennis garb or lip stick, wishing me a 'Happy Birthday.' I really do think chickens and cats should be allowed in heaven, and dogs too. Please, no fleas, mosquitos, leeches or black widows. Clearly, nothing harmful in heaven.
Of course people can be harmful. A person's bite is supposed to be pretty toxic. I suppose no one in heaven would ever bite, and the same should be assumed for insects and rodents and such, so likely it's just as safe to allow them passage as to allow some mostly bad, but ultimately redeemed, person entrance. I do hope we can fly in heaven, but I am not as interested in having wings. I just want to rise up and go from place to place with out touching the ground. Is there ground in heaven?
Soon it will be time to wake up. The real time to wake up, when people expect to be up. Not like now, at 3 or 4 in the morning. Not laying (lying? No, that would be 'in bed telling fantastic, yet false tales') in bed and contemplating the work load involved in making traditional holiday baked goods or wondering whether I should wash my bed sheets today or next Sunday. I could probably think of a hundred or more things I'd rather in see in heaven than Pearly Gates.
My spell check has underscored: "marveling, " "rodents," and "tamales." And I still wonder whether I should be "laying" in bed? Don't chickens "lay?" No matter. I'm not in bed anyhow.