The four-footed one happily ate the fallen blueberries as quickly as she could. It was her version of helping to clean things up. The sad fact is, her tongue was faster than my hands, so she ended up with more than her fair share.
Being an exact type of girl, she started doing a grid-search of the floor, just in case, there were any stray blueberries that we had missed. Much to her disappointment, there were no strays to be had; however, that did not stop her from making several return trips because you never know when more blueberries may fall.
I should be grateful for her helpful nature, and to be fair, I am. However, I’m also somewhat concerned about the output of too many blueberries in her system. I know it might seem silly to you, but in my experience, anytime four-feet indulges too much in something, I end up with an awful, liquidy mess to clean up.
Beloved wasn’t concerned, though. He figured at worst; she would have blue or purple poop and some prolific and exceedingly powerful gas. Of course, he also was not likely to be out with her while she heeded the call of nature.
In case you are wondering, both my worst fears and Beloved’s came to fruition.
The four-footed one is beginning to look a bit like a wild one. Her fur is naturally wiry and messy, even after being brushed. Given the state of affairs right now, she needs proper grooming, you know, the professional kind. However, that isn’t in the books right now with everything being closed and all.
It’s okay though, I mean I can’t say much either because my hair is getting a bit crazy as well. I guess we are a matched pair, her looking all wild and puffy, and I look in need of a good trim, which will help give my hair body again.
Most folks are in the same time of situation unless you can cut your hair professionally. Or you are one of those lucky few who are blessed with perfect hair. You know the kind–the people who can get out of bed after a night of tossing and turning and somehow still have perfect hair.
Have I mentioned that I am not one of those people? So as I was looking at little Ms. Four-feet and how easily she has embraced her wild look, I was trying hard not to think about the mess is my hair.
Beloved said that he would gladly find a place in the desert to hear the whisper of a breeze in the canyon below if it meant he could shut out all the nattering. I laughed at this because he is many things, but tolerant of a desert heat he is not.
I understood what he was saying though. Sometimes you need to leave everything to find the sound of silence to soothe your weary soul and let your ears rest. There are times with those things that feel less than tolerable become an easy price to pay for the result.
I’ve wanted to find myself a peaceful place to heal, or at least take some time to examine what’s going on. The problem is that somehow the mind pulls you back to other things when you are settling into the silence unless you discipline it.
Perhaps, in a while, I will take him for a drive down into the canyon here, and he can sit in the silence where he won’t hear anything save for the wind. He will complain about the grit the stings your skin, just as he will complain about wasting time looking up at the sky in silence. The truth is, while he says he wants a place like that, Beloved can’t be there because he’s not meant for it.
Where on earth does the time go? Sometimes, I am so immersed in something that I don’t’ even notice it passing by. Other times, I watch it slowly tick by, second by second.
This week feels like an entire year has zipped by while dragging it me with it. I had no idea that time could do these things both at the same time. I do not want time to do this ever again, either, yet I know it will.
I also know I’m not the only person feeling this way. These are uncertain times. Things are fluid and shifting before I even fully grasp what they were a moment ago. I’m sure I’m not alone in this either.
We will get through this, I know. I also know I can’t do it alone, nor will it change overnight. These are times I need to provide myself with some space, some kindness, and compassion. Maybe we all need this.
Nature loves harmony and balance, according to the experts. For each light item, there must be a dark item. The doctor who was examining my knee told me that the muscles around the knee were tight, which meant there was an imbalance of things somewhere else. The imbalance, he said, meant that something was loose somewhere else within the structure.
I’m not sure which caught my attention more, the way he referred to my body as a structure, or the fact that he wants to discuss the imbalance theory. I had come in to get my knee sorted out, not a discussion of balance or structures.
Sure it makes sense. And I can even get on board with this theory. It is just hard to take in when the discussion around this happens to be about your body and pain.
He suggested easing the pain with cold and hot, massage, and rest. After all, as he said, nature loves balance.
“It will be fun,” they promised. “You will laugh,” they said. “What have you got to lose,” they asked. So, I went on the giant slide. I reminded myself that this is what people do. They slide down these huge piles of sugar-like substance on a leaf. I mean what could go wrong?
Let me tell you what could go wrong. The sugar-like substance appears to be fine and soft to the touch. That is until you are sliding down the slope of it. At this point, it becomes a form of sandpaper.
Sandpaper and leaves do not go well together. Trust me. You see the friction of the sandpaper wears holes in the leaves. The leaves that you happen to be sitting on. This means that soon you are basically sliding down sandpaper, hoping your clothing holds up, as well as your skin.
I guess you could say it’s a way to exfoliate if you don’t mind a bit of pain. You see, it was fun when we started down the slope, the first two seconds or so. Then it was about protecting my skin and my clothes as the leaf started to give way to friction. There was no laughing on my part. Not even a giggle. They, on the other hand, were laughing. I will never listen to them again.
I feel as though I’ve come out of a whirlwind of sorts. Not literally of course. However, it seems as though I’ve spent the last few days swirling around in the midst of one.
Between meetings and time traveling around, I feel as though I lost track of hours when really I have been too preoccupied to notice the passage of time. To show for the passage of time, I have a sore neck, stiff fingers, and no idea what day of the week it is. Oh, and I have a rattle.
The sore neck is an old friend from years spent with my head in books or at a computer. Let me be clear, this isn’t the type of friend I look forward to visiting, but I understand it. The stiff fingers are that old type of friend as well. The rattle, however, is new.
After spending weeks meeting with a healer, one who spoke to me as if I wasn’t there, experience new and unusual things, I was presented with a rattle that is supposed to guide me in making decisions. Who knows, maybe it will. For now, it sits carefully wrapped on a shelf away from the four-footed one. It is one of a few honored and treasured gifts I have received while learning and working with healers. Even if I never use the rattle, or have a full understanding of it, the power of the gift will be carried with me no matter where I go or what I experience.
The light glittered and danced off the pastel colors held out for me to admire. I’m not sure which was more brilliant, the smile on the woman’s face or the item she held out before me.
I had no intention of purchasing the item, after all, what would I do with a swimmable mermaid tail? We had no idea what the shop held when we first stepped across the threshold. We had decided to explore another part of town, one we had never visited before.
Before the mermaid experience, we had been to a store that sold hammocks and another one full of cotton, hand-woven traditional backpacks. Naturally, we had not thought we would encounter anything other than another store offering traditional goods. Mermaid tails are not traditional goods, and certainly not these fine works of art.
Beloved decided we should buy a tail, one for me to wear even if it was just for the pool. I couldn’t see myself using it for anything, but the saleswoman assured me that it would help me swim and provide a new dimension to exercise.
So Beloved purchased the tail, waited for it to be wrapped up in miles of paper while I admired other works of art. And that is how I got my mermaid’s tail.
Do you have one of those people in your life who always seems to do things the hard way? It isn’t necessarily that they enjoy making things tougher on themselves, however, their decisions result in doing that very thing.
I knew a woman who was exceedingly talented and could have managed work in several different fields. Her issue was her ex-husband who was less than pleased that she had left him. He would try to sabotage her at her various places of employment and for whatever reason, she decided that this was why she should be only able to work low paying jobs.
I was curious why he always managed to find where she was working and create such issues for her. She updated her Facebook page, and while she may not have him as a friend, they had mutual friends on social media. Those mutual friends, no understanding the issues, would share information with him as to where she was working or living.
When I asked her why she didn’t keep things private, or not post things on her social media, she said that she wanted other people to know where she was and what she was doing.
She’s a nice lady and very talented, but she is also stubborn and refused to follow advice such as keeping things private. I’ve heard that she has recently had to switch jobs again because her ex-husband found her last place of work. I worry that this will be her future state of life since she won’t change how she does things. But I also wonder if she realizes how frustrating her behavior is.
Some of the puddles are calling the four-footed one to come out and play. Or at least roll around in them if not play. She’s been keeping an eye on them, watching them grow to just the right size.
We know that when they reach optimum splash size, she will sneak over to them and launch herself into the middle of them. Happily spreading the joy all over our clean, dry clothes. Hey, she likes to share.
But her attention is being divided with the new lizards who’ve taken up residence under the plants just in the corner. These lizards almost gleam in the sun. They dart all over the place, stopping now and then as if to demand attention. And boy does she give them attention.
If it is up to me, I’d say the lizards win out. From their jewel-tone skin to their flashy dance moves, I confess to being enamored with them. But I’m not about to chase them throughout the garden. Because let’s face it, I can’t keep up.
And I can honestly say, I’m not that into puddles anymore. I probably was a million years ago. But not now. Besides what good is a puddle when you don’t have the proper footwear to keep your feet dry?