This past weekend was nice, a big change of life at the McKee Ranch. I heard things, normally of which I am not aware, such as ice cubes crashing down in the ice maker, the all important AC cycles and the pup’s tippy-tappy toes as she walked the hallway. It was good.

And in the foyer, I could hear very clearly the grandfather clock chime. I liked that. Also Monday morning I heard the garbage truck and the mailbox click shut when all of the solicitations were delivered. There were a few sounds strange to me, like the humming of the electrical circuits throughout my house, which probably equated to dollar signs and the flapping of ceiling fans. And one time I even heard my heart beat. That was a relief.

It was wonderful.

And why was there quietness? Our cable box had zonked-out after a power surge. Sigh.

There were no TV’s blasting in every room and especially nice were no sound-bars, just quiet all over the house and I loved it.

Of course Hubs immediately called our cable provider and after many disturbing minutes on hold, learned a tech could not come to our home until Wednesday. This was Sunday and that meant almost four days of quiet! I was overwhelmed.

But I heard him say, “We will miss all of today’s football games.”

“We,” did he have a mouse in his pocket, I wondered? We certainly didn’t include me.

Oh, I dreamed of meaningful conversations, which is something foreign to Hubs, what with NASCAR, the whispering deer and turkey hunters, plus MASH and any program about how-to-build a whatever, taking his time. But noooo, Hubs took up reading again. What? The man hasn’t read anything in the last five years except those solicitations I mentioned earlier.

Come Monday morning Hubs had a plan. He loaded up the old cable box and went to town and within the hour returned with a new one. We all gathered around the TV to see if the new one worked. Three were hoping and one wasn’t.

Yep, we returned to cable-land, full-blast. Three were dancing and one wasn’t.

I went into my office and shut the door, but it wasn’t the same. I mean with three blasting upstairs and one downstairs, I didn’t have a chance.

I remember the time I wanted to take up meditation. It seemed so cool to sit in a room with only my clever thoughts. But then I thought about where I live and it wasn’t going to happen at the McKee Ranch. Yet, I was determined therefore I signed-up for a meditation class.

But I’ve got to tell you, meditation is not all it is cracked up to be, I think. Maybe I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but all I wanted to do was nap, like I would have given $500 for a good doze. Now in the class there were no TVs, no one was talking but there was a fly in the room and a lawnmower outside the window.

So there was to be no yoga/meditation type-stuff for me, but I could go for a broken cable box, once or twice a month. I mean I yearn to hear the electricity circuit run through my house once again, but now, the grandfather clock only sounds like a croak.

What I learned from this experience? Well, I learned a lot and the below little ditty sums it up nicely.

If we can’t have world peace,

I’ll settle for a quiet room.

–Joyce Rachelle 

Anne B McKee is a Mississippi historian, writer and storyteller. She is listed on the Mississippi Humanities Speakers Bureau and Mississippi Arts Commission’s Performing Artist and Teaching Artist Rosters. See her web site: www.annemckeestoryteller.com