Friday, July 22, 2011
Normal Pre-Trip Tripping
Some of you may remember this pretty little lady lamp although I myself had almost forgotten her. Her head had unfortunately snapped off and she's been sitting in the Museum Of Unfinished Projects (the garage/workshop) for at least a year but yesterday Mr. Moon brought her back in the house, all fixed up and with warnings that I am to be very, very careful with her.
Owen kissed her. Of course.
So she is back in the bathroom of Madonnas and Fridas and Mermaids.
The Goddess Bathroom.
Ah. My feet seem to find nothing but sand on the floor in every room of the house and the laundry is already going and will Mr. Moon remember to water my plants and how can I leave him with all these animals and will he eat? What will he eat? He has told me that if I ever left him or died he would probably perish from starvation. Now we all know this is not true, just as I know that he will not let my plants die and he will not let the chickens or dogs die either, although as for the dogs, it would not hurt my feelings at all if they did.
Go ahead, give me hell.
It's not that I hate the dogs. I don't really. I just hate what they do to my life, my house.
No, if I suddenly disappeared, Mr. Moon would replace me with a younger model in about three months. This I know for certain. Oh sure, he would cherish my memory but he is a pragmatic man with a huge heart and he likes being married. I think. He could be lying to me. But I am only going to be gone for a week- not enough time for him to find a replacement- I hope! Who will remind him to take his pills and who will make his smoothies and who will make his lunches and why does my stomach hurt so much?
God. You'd think I was about to leave on the Lewis and Clark expedition, not just getting in a quality vehicle and driving up the interstates to Asheville, North Carolina with climate control and Map Quest and cell phones and debit and credit cards. No. To my mind, it will look like this:
Without Sacagawea to guide us or all those studly braves.
Well, I guess Lis can be Sacagawea and Hank can be the studly braves. I'll be the guy who got small pox and died or whatever they died from in those days. An infected blister. Whatever. I am telling you- I could get lost in a paper bag. I DO get lost in parking lots and hospitals. And in Tallahassee where I have lived for 37 GEE DEE years!
Okay. I need to shut up. This isn't helping.
Mr. Moon will not die of starvation. Lis and Hank and I will not get lost and wander around the primeval forest for years, surviving only on road kill and foraged berries. They will not kick me out of Asheville for Abhorrent Clothing Choices.
Owen will not forget me.
All will be well.
As I recall, they sell awesome microbrewed beer by the quart in the Health Food Store right down the road from Jessie's house. I'll be okay. And when I get back, that pretty little lady will be right there in my bathroom, waiting patiently for me to come and turn her on again.
Happy Friday, y'all.