" ...you should appreciate the small joys of everyday
and try to make more of them,
life is for savouring the tiny-satisfying-making you happy things
as well as the large occasional joys."
I must be in one of my manic stages. I'm walking from room to room, picking up here, dusting there. I've actually begun washing the crystal and plan on polishing the silver. An annual event that is time consuming but I like the way everything sparkles when it's done. Of course I might have put it off til after the holidays had not a fine layer of dry wall dust settled on everything - even inside the china cabinet.
I had a very strange dream last night. What I remember most is that cutie Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs and Ford truck commercial fame putting tape across his mouth BEFORE kissing me. I do believe my knees buckled anyway. I'm not sure what brought us together, perhaps the thought of the aforementioned chore, but I was still laughing when I woke up with a ferocious leg cramp.
In that same dream I was also bitten, not once but twice, by a copperhead snake. Surely there is something phallic about that but I suspect the pain I felt was the tightening in my calf. To his credit, mouth-taped Dirty Job Mike somehow called my mother to tell her he thought I would be late for dinner.
Do you think a dream like this could qualify me for a few days of R&R at a nice, relaxing, spa-like retreat center, i.e. loony bin?
Lately I've written a few stories for my writing group that feature, what else, the relationship between me and my father. Last week one of them was being critiqued by the group. I listened as someone read a portion out loud. It really is different to hear your own words read by someone else - a good technique to polish one's writing skills. I was pleased with what I heard, and even surprised by the depth of caring that was apparent.
Why, I wonder, can't we live in harmony the way I write about it?
A couple days later I had an epiphany of sorts. I think I write about my fantasy father. The one who is going to love me no matter what. One who I don't fight with all the time. The one it scares me so much to lose. Perhaps like dreams, I write to balance out the struggle.
In one of his posts today Jon Katz wrote that grumpiness is a disease. I think he may be right. I think my Dad might have it. Sadly, I think I may also have a few of the symptoms.
Things I learned from my cats:
If you want something, don't sit around and wait for it to come to you, go get it.
My girl cat is the total opposite of her scaredy cat brother. When she wants a hug, she climbs up in you lap like a 2 year old, plops herself down, curls into a ball and says with nothing more than furry body language, "Hello, you can love me now." When she's had enough she leaves without so much as a goodbye, yet I think we both feel better.
She has also decided I'm not capable of going to the bathroom alone. If she is not fast enough to join me and gets locked out, she'll sit patiently til the door opens, waiting and listening. Kind of like what I do when my father is in the shower.
Boy Cat did very well during his second venipuncture visit to the vet last week. His blood cell numbers went down which is a good thing. The really good news is it didn't totally freak him out. Well, it did while he was at the vet's, but once home he has remained almost friendly. He has decided to tag along with me when I say good night to my dad. There we all sit every night around 9:30 ... Oprah on the TV, Dad tilted up in bed, me on the portable commode and Boy Cat in between us getting love pats on both ends. It is a scene I hope I won't forget. For a few minutes every night there is a peaceful harmony among us. If I were an angel I might even interrupt the silence with a few glo-o-o-or-ias!
Yesterday I got a really cool surprise. A long-time friend of my daughter and my blog mentor sent me a candle that smells like fresh cut grass. That's the kind of thing she does. She picks up on things you have long forgotten and brings them back to your memory when you least expect it. It was a delightful gift and I was very pleased. Isn't it fun to surprise people?
I hear crystal wine glassed calling my name. I must get back to my chores. Thanks for listening.
Wishing you a day filled with surprise kisses, unexpected hugs and peaceful harmony,