There is no use crying over spilt milk. Spilt coffee is another story though. Especially when it’s the last bit of coffee in the house and you were really looking forward to that cup of deliciousness of the coffee beings. Then crying makes all the sense in the world. As in it simply cannot be helped. Or that’s my story.
But in all good stories, no matter how steep the hill is that you need to climb, when you are crying over spilt coffee there is a hero who comes along and fixes it. Usually just in the nick of time. As in just before the tears threaten to become an indoor lake in your kitchen. While I may be a fan of water features, I can’t say that I want an indoor salt lake in my kitchen.
The best part about my hero today is that I got a fresh cup of coffee without having to wait for it to be made. I got freshly made coffee and a supply of coffee waiting to be made when I need it. And yes need is the correct word because at this point in my life I need coffee. Not always, but frequently. If I had coffee always I’d be crying tears of coffee. Potentially salty coffee which might not be so tasty. And even if it isn’t salty, it might not be good because, well, recycled coffee that my body has already used. Umm thanks, but not thanks.
I’ve mentioned before my envious nature when it comes to my talented friends being able to make gifts and items. Mostly I’m envious because I lack the skills and the talents to do the very crafts that they do.
As we come up to the Christmas season hand-made gifts, gifts of love really, have started arriving. Beloved and I have been blessed with a quilt, socks, a blanket and some wonderful items to keep us warm during the cold winter months. There is a promise of delicious baked goods as well as the opportunity to share meals with those who matter to us.
But this year something very unusual is on the way. A friend has asked me to keep my eyes open for a fragile parcel coming to me. Once I receive the fragile parcel I am to call said friend for instructions on unpacking and clearing the item that is within the box.
My friend has provided me with a list of preparations to be made for the arrival of this gift, although he hasn’t indicated exactly what the gift is. Just that it is exceedingly fragile and will require some clearing work when it arrived. He has asked me to locate dark, soft fabric to store this item in giving me the dimension of the box in which this item lives. He has also suggested where the item is to be stored when it is not in use so as to keep the item in good shape.
All of these instructions have me very curious as to what this item might be. But they also have me a little concerned about what exactly is being shipped. I expressed mild concern that it might in fact be a live something, but he has assured me that it isn’t alive in the sense that I am thinking. Given his work with shamanic studies, I am now wondering if he is sending me a shaman’s tool, which would be an amazingly huge responsibility. One that I’m not sure I could take on respectfully and completely.
However for now I shall simply get on with getting prepared for the arrival of the parcel. (We are both tracking it in the logistics system so the odds of it arriving as a surprise have been reduced to nothing.) And I shall trust my friend knows me, knows what he is doing and will not give me something beyond that which I can handle or work with. And yes I shall breathe a huge sigh of relief he isn’t’ sending me a living creature to look after.
We founds a box of things I had packed at some point. It was full of I don’t know what, but surely wonderful things. I’m positive that’s what Beloved was saying. It was just lupus messing with my hearing that made it sound like he was saying “where are we going to put this”. I’m sure of it! 😉
In all fairness I had done a poor job of culling before shipping! It can’t be helped because all my stuff is, well, stuff I need! 😉 And George Carlin had it right when he did his routine on stuff and how you have it spread out all over the place and ultimately it’s still your stuff. And of course you need all that stuff, even if it’s just in storage. Because we are nothing without stuff.
I don’t know what it is about stuff, but without it I feel incomplete, naked somehow. Stuff completes me, makes me whole. Maybe I see it as a status symbol, maybe I’m a bit like an a hermit crab and need it bring it with me.
but I don’t think I’m all that unusual in this regard. I think most people have certain things, certain stuff, that they need. Be it for comfort or what have you. Little children have blankets, stuffed animals and such they need. Some adults need music, and some, like me need books.
when we opened the box of fun things, it was books. This isn’t a tough one after all. It was a box of cook books, so Beloved immediately sat down to go through and start to plan meals. And suddenly there was no concern about where to put my stuff because it was suddenly acceptable stuff in his eyes!
Beloved swept into the room as if he was above this all. He was just suddenly there looking great while I was stuck with basically small garden hoses and such coming out of my arms. My and let’s not omit that stunning piece of fashion known as the hospital gown.
If I had the energy, I would have wrapped one of those garden hoses around his neck until he turned a lovely shade of purple. Not to kill him mind you, just so he could blend in with the rest of us!😉
The fact he had come from one place and was stopping briefly to see me before he went to another place didn’t help either. I hate knowing that ere is a whole other world just beyond the hospital walls I’m stuck behind.
Don’t misunderstand, I know I need to be in the hospital at these times, but frankly seeing him so well and undamaged drives me up a wall. I have just the slightest bit of a jealous bone and when he comes in like that the bone grows to fill all my bones.
Yes friends I am jealous of his health and how he still comes and goes as needed. I know the truth is a bit different though. The truth is that these visits are torture for him too because it means that once again he is reminded and forced to deal with the fact im not nearly as well as I pretend.
it drives him up a wall that I’m not there. That this isn’t a quick fix. That our lives are run sometimes not by our wants or desires and instead by lupus. And mostly it drives him crazy to know there isn’t anything he can do other than visit and carry on.
So he breezes in and breezes out so as not to show too much of his hurt to me. And I, for my part, threaten to strangle him so he has to leave sooner. And we both laugh! Yes this is partially how we live with and cope with lupus.
Tragedy, horrors most awful struck me today. Dread and fear, pain and suffering. Why you may ask? What could cause this kind of horror, especially as there is no coffee shortage yet you may wonder.
I forgot to charge my cellphone and my tablet. Cue the panicky feeling in one’s chest. Cue racing heart beat and blood draining from one’s face. Cue the sense of fainting. Most of all, cue dramatic flair and over dramatization. 😉
I’m always awed, shocked and a little disgusted with myself when something like this happens. I’m far more attached to my gadgets than I’d like to be and yet not nearly as attached as others are. I can still see the humor in a dead tablet and a dying cell phone because I know I don’t really need them.
I also know that some people would tell me to set an alarm, electronic no doubt, to remind me to charge these things so they are always there when I need them. Unless it’s due to signal issues.
But I don’t do this, for a few reasons. First off I’m normally pretty good about charging everyone up. Secondly I’m never in a situation where my cellphone or tablet are my only means to communicate or access data. I certainly see no need, I mean it’s not life or death if it’s not charged for a period of time. It’s just a bit of a hassle until I get used to the item not working. And then it’s just new-found freedom for a bit.
Because let’s face it friends, I’m always going to charge it up, eventually.