Back in the day, when Doshu would go off to sesshin and a visit with his folks, leaving the kids and I to fend for ourselves, the trickster would rub his hands with glee and before Doshu was at the end of the driveway, something would invariably break or go dreadfully wrong.
One year the chimney in our one room cabin developed a carbon monoxide-spewing leak. My plan to clean the chimney while Doshu was away quickly became an emergency, and with preschooler and toddler in tow, I made the trek (on working logging roads) to the coop hardware store to find replacement parts. Thank goodness for small communities! Although the sales clerk had never done the job, she cornered one of the old-timers in the store, who cheerfully gave us all the how-to wisdom and encouragement we needed to get the job done. Picture mom on the step ladder replacing sections of stove pipe with tiny kids bundled in winter coats playing happily amongst the debris.
Then there was the year the key broke in the ignition (again while Doshu was on retreat), but luckily while the kids and I were in town, and the local mechanic, who understood a lot about expediency, and resourcefulness, fixed the car by showing me how to start it with a screwdriver. Somewhere around that time there was the challenge of always parking our car on a slope, to get it started again.
In our family we consoled ourselves with food. So for years whenever Doshu went away we would clear cut the store and eat all the forbidden stuff: coffee, meat, sausages, bacon, real maple syrup, cake made with sugar, and ice cream!
It helped keep the trickster away.
