|Green Heart Quilt - Crispina Ffrench|
Today was that day for me. Granted it was 80 degrees, humid as hell and not a rain cloud in the sky. From the instant I awoke to a quiet house, going downstairs to find the stove clock off, not noticing that the bathroom light came on, walking back up stairs to get my phone for some light to flip the fuse down cellar. Noticing the light came on when I flipped the switch - meaning I did not blow the fuse I thought - walking across the kitchen to make sure the freezer hadn't melted in the 6.5 hours when the power went out (I know this by the stove clock which began flashing again.)
In my confusion I went down cellar to check the fuses, even though all the lights were on and everything was okay. I made my tea and sat down at my computer and began to write. Feeling out of sorts for no particular reason makes me uneasy. I know deep down that something will happen, but I had no apprehension as I wrote and woke up.
I had an early appointment with Leigh Palmer and his wife, who is also an Artist, unbeknownst to me. They were having an Art Day in the Berkshires and I felt honored they were coming to check out my show at the Whit. Granted Leigh is in the Show, along with Eileen Murphy and Dan Rupe thanks to Carrie Haddad being such a wonderful Gallery owner and sharing her Artists with me at the last minute due to a last minute cancellation for our July Show.
It was nice to get such great feedback from the Palmers'. They spent about a half hour looking and chatting, admiring the lovely building which the Whit is located. They really boosted my day in a big way and gave me an excuse to dress up a bit as well.
I headed home to see if Dad and Tom had woken up yet. They are serious sleepers that is for sure. To my surprise Dad was up having coffee and dressed. He had slept in the living room on the Air Mattress, so I asked how his night was. He said he slept well and Thomas didn't disturb him at all during the night with his computer.
Dad has been over doing it on the stairs forgetting that he was told to walk sideways up and down the stairs so we decided that he needed to be on the main floor with the bathroom since remembering important things isn't really his strong suit these days.
I was feeling okay - no disasters - no thoughts of pending doom. I was actually looking forward to my afternoon with my counselor, who I told last week that he couldn't go away ever again since every time he does my life breaks down in unexpected ways. It is a good thing he only takes vacation a couple of times a year!
Dad needed to do an errand so we headed off to City Hall and he ran in to drop off some paperwork, decided to check his mail while we were out and that resulted in another stop to drop off more paperwork somewhere else. Still good, but not great - the heat was horrible and the traffic was slow for Pittsfield so that did not help one little bit.
Home, tea, toast and relaxation for the next hour was supposed to be on the agenda. I got to make the tea, forgot all about the toast however when the first shoe dropped - not my shoe, not my problem, but ripple effects, what effects one person in a house does effect others. This was indeed the case.
I am not at liberty to discuss the details of my disdain, since I don't own it and well frankly the only way it effects me is by severely confusing the hell out of me. Red flags, bells and whistles were waving, ringing and tooting. I looked at the problem, looked again, got more confused and finally had to leave to go to my appointment - if I had an apron I would have been hiding under it! As it was I walked to my appointment wringing my hands and talking to myself out loud in public - never good signs.
At times like these, in this mental confusion, it is most difficult for me to only notice the beautiful flowers that .line my way, in times like these, the chipped paint and litter filled streets seep into my view, along with people who are pretending to be nice and sociable but are being stupid mean assholes instead, overshadowing any and all good and beautiful things along the way. (and to make it clear- I do mean you stalker a+*HOLE, who despite blocking you I am sure you are still reading - so be sure you take credit where credit is due, to be clear I do mean you.)
I arrived 20 minutes early for my appointment, sitting in the empty waiting room reading Time Magazine in front of the fan enjoying the solitude and not thinking about what was on my mind, allowing the magazine to have my full attention. Needing the time. Appreciating the time and the solitude.
I monopolize more than my hour, something I very rarely do. Talking and thinking and cursing and cursing some more. Trying to understand, not just the problem, but what is broken in me, because ultimately I am responsible for ME, my well being, something which I always put last when there are others more needy than me, and that is all the time without fail.
The only problem is that Counselors do not want to tell you the answer. They want you to see it for yourself, mine anyway, that is utterly impossible for me to do and it frustrates me even more. I know my problem, deep down inside. I hate it and yet, like smoking tobacco I am powerless to stop, despite it being detrimental to my health, heart, spirit and mind.
On the bright side, I am able to recognize the good parts of myself and all the positive work I am doing socially and inter-personally, since I am not allowed to accept responsibility for the insanity of others. Next I will be carrying a sign that says "NO" if my Doc gets his way, hopefully I will not have to get that extreme.
It is all about the balance, and today, mine got tipped slightly to the dark side. I left my appointment and headed to the Market Place in hopes of a cup of tea and to my delight a shot of some manageable Tequila (thank you very much) I do not drink Tequila, or alcohol regularly, it has been since Paul Marshall's memorial service at the Parkside 23 years ago I last drank it; but felt a much needed desire to get my Dad's car and leave town and never look back, which I haven't done since I was in 10th grade and ran away to Florida, so the shot was the lesser of two evils.
I had a great conversation with my friend and walked home looking good and getting compliments despite feeling like total shit. Not even the compliments raised my spirits and I reluctantly walked back to my abode. Tom was up by that time, having phoned me to see if I got lost as I was later than my normal Monday return.
I decided that nothing could be fixed, understood or changed, other than my outlook so I headed into the kitchen and fried some chicken and made dinner. Thomas somehow chose some music I would have played if I had made a request, somehow knowing what remedy I needed. Of course the food was good, but still not the ticket.
I decided to call and get a report on my new grandson, who will be walking before I see him again, I am sure! My wonderful daughter in law answered and I got the sleep report - still up every couple of hours during the night but doing better. (I have been telling them to add some cereal into his formula at night, knowing that would do the trick - the boy is his father's son after all!) They haven't tried it yet, but once it sinks in they might and I know it will do the trick!
They had just come in from a walk around their neighborhood, so I didn't want to keep her, and Declan was a bit grumpy, I could hear him through the phone. Lisa asked if I wanted to talk to Ains, who I of course called to speak to really.
She came to the phone, surprised when I said hello "GRAMMA!" she said when she recognized me (who can be bummed when greeted so enthusiastically???) She is the light that reignites my light to be sure! We chatted for a while and then with I love you and I love you too, hugs and kisses, we hung up.
I had forgotten some things at the store so got out of my p.j.'s I had put on for the comfy feel good feeling and because I wasn't planning on going out again. For a second I thought there was a play tonight in the Park and I might stop in on that, but tonight wasn't the night - the park only had kids playing in the new water park with parents looking on and young men playing basketball.
The litter and grime from earlier erased and the flowers, babies and puppies back in my view once more, I felt better as I made my way through the Park and down the familiar sidewalks of my hometown.
Then it began to rain, lightly at first, I cut through the church and suddenly it was coming down in bucketfuls. Instead of freaking out and getting mad, I looked up to the heavens and thanked god for the cleansing rain, needing to wash away the bullshit of my day.
I joined a man in a wheelchair under a tree, but the tree was offering no protection so I made my way to a doorway and lit a smoke and watched the rain fall as I wrung out my soaked black shirt, thankful I had changed out of the black and white dress I had worn earlier in the day.
The sky lightened and the rain slowed. I made my purchases and made my way back home. The man under the tree was stuck and waiting for a cabulance as his chair had shorted out from the rain. Reassured he wasn't stranded I went on my way once more, running into my youngest son's father standing dryly under a marquee, laughing as he asked me if I was wet. I was less wet than I had been 10 minutes before since the humidity was kicked up a notch once more.
I arrived home - Dad had washed the dishes and Tom greeted me warmly. Both happy I was home and in a strange way I was as well.