Thursday, September 18, 2014

Stream Of Almost-Consciousness

They're doing something to the railroad tracks and machinery is going back and forth behind my house, beep-beep-beep, grind, grind, beep. Miss Butterscotch was so traumatized by the possum the other night that she isn't sleeping in the hen house but somewhere else and she shows up in the morning, safe and sound, and don't tell me chickens don't think, don't tell me cats don't think, don't tell me babies don't think, even trees think, most likely.
Jessie's off to meet the painter, then to get her fingerprints taken to get her Florida nursing license and then an interview this afternoon, and this is really happening, really, truly and Owen was so happy yesterday when she showed up with his mama to pick him up from school that he said his brain was going to explode and both of those boys were wild yesterday, just wild, and then Gibson had a needing-a-nap-so-bad meltdown and he cried and cried and Owen got mad because we wouldn't buy him something he wanted because his birthday is about to be here and he's going to get a buttload of toys and he told his mother and me both that we are not invited to his birthday party and then he felt bad and oh, to be almost-five and not afraid to speak your feelings and to be loved entirely and completely even though.
I went back and looked at the purse, ready to buy, but it didn't thrill me as much. Shit. A hundred bucks. That's enough money for...a trip to the grocery, a lot of potting soil, I don't know. The red it was lined with didn't please me as much. So what? Purses. Fah. And hell yes, I can walk on stilettos, don't ask me why. To the end of the aisle and back at Pay Less, at least, but seriously, why would you do that? Although I used to have a pair of pink "reptile" skin heels that I wore when I used to go out with my nursing school friends, although I kicked them off when it came time to dance, and then I got married in them. What happened to those shoes? Where did they go? And that beautiful hippie dress that I loved and adored and that I didn't wear any underwear with and also that gorgeous Indian print dress that I wore when I was pregnant with Hank and with May, it flowed like a queen's gown, it made me feel majestic. Where do these things go?
And where do the babies go when the adults appear and where did I go, oh wait, here I am, sitting here, all the ages I've ever been inside of me and why does this make me weepy and what are they DOING on the railroad tracks?
I got to see both Billy and Togi yesterday and got hugs, hugs, hugs, such good, hard hugs, and why is it that some people, even if we don't see them very often, make us cry when we do see them because we love them so much and are so glad that they are on the planet the same time as we are, and why do I feel things so sharply, so fully that things like this happen to me? Shouldn't my edges be rounded by now? Instead I reach over and hold my husband's hand in the bed at night and say, "Why do I love you so much? I think I love you too much," and it gets worse every day, this loving-too-much, this caring too much, instead of the edges being rounded by this river of life, the protective coating is the thing which has been dissolved, and I want all of my children to be so happy, so safe, so loved, I want my grandsons never to feel the need to cry but of course that's not even reasonable but the thought of any being being in pain hurts my heart, even Butterscotch, her frightened heart forcing her to roost by herself somewhere alone, away from her sisters, and maybe all of this is why reading the news is just too painful, maybe it's why I can't begin to worry about what happens after this life, why would anyone take on that worry when there's so much here and now and also love and joy and every season the changes and the light and the music of the wind and the crickets and the voices of our loved ones and even the evil sometimes seems to me more of a cry for help and release than sign of the devil, and we all, all of us, yearn for the light and the love and the safety and the peace and the cool, clear water and all of us know, somehow, even from the moment of birth that we deserve those things and they can only be proffered through love and it's so easy to move people through anger, to propel them into action, that combined with the promise of a future life after death of ease and virgins, I don't know, I've never understood the promise of heavenly things, for me, if there is simply rest, it will be enough.

How fucked up WERE those railroad tracks?
I need to go take a walk.


  1. My chicken has been roosting in the neighbors tree for over a year. I doubt she would go in a coop, if she had one. The worry what can I say, there is so much to worry about. Gail

  2. Worry is such a useless activity, yet we all do it.
    There's been lots of train activity here too. It's annoying.
    Grandkids having meltdowns...the best of times and the worst of times. (That's when it's good to send them home! Lol!)
    Sorry the purse let you down, but hey! You saved $100!!

  3. I love the way your mind streams, there is such love, such beauty and goodness in this post. I said to someone the other day that the world was in meltdown, so much meanness running rampant, so much war and tribalism and ugliness and he said i should not worry so much because as extreme as it all appears there is its counterpoint, its direct light-filled opposite in terms of goodness happening and if we look for it we will find it and this morning I came here and i found it. You are a corner of light and goodness in the gone-crazy world, and never doubt the power you wield in that simple, love-filled way. thank you, dear mary, for being here, for being you.

    And how excited am I that Jessie is moving home! If I'm so excited I can't even imagine what you and the boys must be feeling! Ha!

  4. I thought I'd get more 'rounded' as I matured, but ya know what? It seems to me that I see so much more clearly now. I've always been a fan of nature, but within the last year I've been known to sit on our back deck and weep at the beauty of the sunrise. I sometimes look at my husband (who I've known for 30 years!) and think, Lord, is this man not the most wonderful thing ever. As for life after this one, I believe that I will spend my eternity in a better place...even though sometimes it's hard to believe that this life I live isn't the best there is...

  5. My husband fell in love with my independent, spunky ways. None of that girly "mushy stuff" for me!! Now that I'm 63, the edges have rounded to the point that I'm marshmallow creme. I wonder if he'll tire of me holding his face between my hands, gazing adoringly, whispering I love you, you are my world. And meaning it with all my soul. Nah, he's a man. He loves being worshiped, haha.

  6. I bought your book today. So far I have only read the first story and I love it!

  7. As if all that racket could derail your thoughts.

  8. Your mind is like a train running down those very tracks -- hopefully after they have been repaired! Ha! There's no stopping that "Instead..." sentence -- in a good way. :)

  9. Gail- Amen.

    heartinhand- That IS the great thing about grandchildren. Drop them off at home, merrily kiss them all goodbye, get in the car and drive off.

    Angella- You are the most loving and sweet woman. I count my lucky stars to count you as my friend. Always.
    And yes, I can't even BELIEVE Jessie's moving back. Yiyiyiyi!

    catrina- Same for me when it comes to really noticing, really cherishing. It becomes stronger every year.

    Anonymous- Beautiful! Me too! Same-same!

    Lois- THANK-YOU!!!!

    Denise- It surely tried to derail me. But I'd rather have my thoughts derailed than a train fall over on my chicken coop.

    Steve Reed- Who needs fucking punctuation?

  10. yes, trees do think and they communicate. so there.

    I don't spend money either. why is it so hard for me to spend money? even as a kid I was frugal with my allowance while everyone else I knew spent theirs the first day. a natural tendency fortified by choosing to be a self employed artist. might need that money for food next month. though I did splurge and bu=ought something I totally did not need and it cost $800! A handmade light fixture by another artist.

  11. Ellen Abbott- But buying art is not just the right thing to do, it's always an investment.

  12. I think that I love too much also. I see my wife and see us getting older and think I cannot possibly live without you. I love too much. And I am learning to soften my hard edges more and more.


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