Weblog 21

April 10, 2006~ 6:30am
Another Monday. Sunday passed like a dream, same routine, early enough bed- and now back in the saddle at work. At least this week will be a short one: we're off on Good Friday (the day I'm going to finally dismantle my little Christmas tree. I'm nothing, if not late.)

Been watching The Sopranos this season. My sister tapes it for me, so I'm always running two weeks behind, but I must say, the gild is off the rose. The capo characters all seem like caricatures to me, and Tony has been laid up, having been gut shot by 'the Mummy' (lol) Uncle June- and frankly, his dreams of being a fella named Kevin Finnerty whilst he lay in a coma, leave me cold. The Zen Buddhist angle plays hokey, and the only character who's delighted me thus far this season is Anthony Jr., screaming "FUCK YOU!" out the hospital window at reporters.

It's really sad when past obsessions fade. It's 'lonely'...something else lost. Life is a series of losses, and I'm a terrible loser. At least there's the wonders of Deadwood to look forward to.



April 11, 2006~ 1:30am
Asleep at 9:30, up again at 12:30 a.m. Just wanted to say- I love this quiet. I wish the world were always this silent and this soft. The mind hushes, relaxes into an easier machine to guide. If I were a fairy godmother, certainly I would sprinkle slumber dust over all the sleeping earth to calm it down, to restore it in its sleep, and those awake would be artists, poets and healers working at their various looms- raveling up the frayed parts and feeling an unspoken, gentle bond. That is my goodnight prayer at just this moment.

Wouldn't it have been nice, if instead of an empty tomb we could have rolled away the stone to find Christ merely sleeping?

Then, like children on a Sunday morning, we could have jumped up on the bed with him and read the funnies- not find ourselves abandoned to our fate with a credo written down and left behind like a holy treasure map. These are the sleepy thoughts of a sleepy head, thinking everything at this hour is a wish list. As Tevye says in Fiddler On The Roof about wishing big- "costs the same".


April 11, 2006~ 10:00pm
Twas an evening of babysitting the wee bairns. Bill, the precocious 3 year old, and Kay, who is seven months old, completely round and rambunctious. (Did I mention dimples?- yes, there are devastating dimples, red hair and a mean, lip-vibrating rasberry she does at every opportunity.)

I had a wonderful time. Warm, lovely spring evening, a yard green and strewn with toys that was all manner of things: a pizza shop, a campsite, a busy highway, a grocery store....have rocks, leaves, imagination- "will play". And Bill, two weeks into his toilet training, DID tell me when he had to 'go see George'- even in the midst of being out in the lovely April evening magic. What a kid. Bravo, Master Bill. Here's the poem from today's adventure-


Babysitting Olivier


After
the traffic, the open
stretch, banking
too fast, curves like
wind
when I want to feel my hips
against

the guardrail, reeling
in the freedom
at the end
of the day, to be greeted by cats
who have waited
all hours
for one, small tin of precious meat, and then
climb
into the seat
again, to drive a 15 minute braid
of wheels and metal and be met at the door
by the biggest open grin
a three year old
can muster,
head hung out the door, eyes like sky
on the first day of the world and hear
it, " Gram" - head shaking -
face miming every
adult he's known, "I had
SUCH a busy
day"-- Olivier

couldn't
have
thrilled me more.


April 15, 2006~ 2:30pm
Yes. This is the time for silly hats. Bring out the plastic fruit, the feather birds, the ribbons and lace...because it's EASTERTIME!



No, I'm afraid people don't go hogwild anymore with hats. Not since Princess Diana's passing anyway- (other than the royal family, that is. They've always appreciated a good hat- the more ridiculous, the better!) Alas, the pastel colors of my youth, the uncomfortable rubber band under my chin, the too-tight, new patent leathers are but a glimmer of memory. One thing we DO have though, besides the egg dye, is the cute Easter animals. Lambs and bunnies and chicks, and of course



the fuzzy ducklings! Bless their tiny quacker hearts. So cute! Every year when I was little, we got two. Every year we named them Huey and Duey and our parakeet would chase them on the floor, wee duck poop following them like ink from a pen. Ah.....those were the days! And the "Ten Commandments". Yule Brynner every Easter night. I may have been the only eleven year old with a crush on pharoah.



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