I've never read anything by her although she seems to be fairly prolific and I have already fallen in love with the way she writes. Almost every paragraph has a sentence that I want to read out loud to someone.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Anyway, I slept for three whole hours with Maurice cuddled up beside me and then I laid in the bed for almost another hour, just laying there, eyes open, not moving a muscle, being still just for the pure delight of it, the sensuous pleasure of having nothing I needed to do and being wrapped in soft sheets beside a warm, sleeping cat, the curtain of rain and heavy pewter sky outside making a cave of my world.
When I got up I decided to call an old, old friend. She'd left me a voice mail the other day about wanting to go to Roseland to cook in the pink kitchen, to skinny dip in the lion pool. It is hard for me to make phone calls but I called her with this pocket of time where I knew no one needed me.
It turns out that she had some fairly serious news. A health situation and it hit me hard. We've been through so much together. Now this. But she is not scared. She's pissed at the inconvenience of it all but no, not scared. We talked about so many things and we laughed and we laughed.
There is nothing in this world so warming to my soul as slipping back into a connection like this. And of course it is hard to hear about difficulties but here we are- sixty years old- and life is just going to jump out and kick us in the balls sometimes. That's all there is to it. And it's a comfort and a joy to hear that voice on the other end of the line. To pick up that color in the tapestry which is the story of my life. The color which is that friend's and that friend's alone, to weave into the pattern again.
We talked too long. But she sounded so good and everything one of us said led to something else and then something else...
We ended with me telling her to get some damn rest and to take her meds. And that I love her.
Which she knows.
Thank god I've never had a problem telling the people I love that I love them.
Kitten is doing fine. I only go in that bathroom to give her treats, to once in a while actually use the bathroom. I talk to her sweetly. I certainly don't try to approach her. I just want her to get used to my presence a little. Once, when I went in today she actually looked directly at me and waited a second before she fled behind the shower curtain. I take that as progress. She surely does use the litter box. She certainly has spread out the towels and washcloths. She absolutely does love chicken pot pie mixed with warm water and mushed up. And she is, without a doubt, the fluffiest orange kitten ever born.
Garrison Keillor is singing a song about immigrants. He's on the same side of it that I am.
Welcome. Welcome, he says. So do I.
Thank-you, President Obama. Your legacy will be a beautiful one.
If I ever get to a time when it don't bother me
To see innocent people degraded like dogs in the street
Who picked our vegetables, our policemen expelled
Then I've lost my compassion and mercy, as well as myself.
And this whole thing about Bill Cosby breaks my heart. I can't help but believe the woman who have come forward, and to the people who ask why it took them this long- all I have to say is- some of them came forward years ago and because he was The Daddy, the Sweet, Good Father, no one believed them.
He gave them drugs which turned them helpless and powerless (like little girls) and raped them.
I understand this way better than I wish I did.
Right now they're singing a song on Prairie Home Companion called "That Old Time Atheism."
Oh god. I love Garrison.
I hope he never raped anyone.
It's a weird, strange world.
I don't pretend to understand one bit of it. I just know that we need to love the ones we love and tell them that without hesitation.
My husband will be home tomorrow. I can barely believe it.
The rain is still pouring down. I need to get out the umbrella and go out and close the chickens up. I have no idea what to cook for supper. Maybe a poached egg.
My heart is full of so many things. I am looking forward to tomorrow when my arms will be wrapped around that man. I will cook him rock shrimp and make an arugula salad and there will be clean sheets and because I AM sixty years old, I will appreciate every bit of that.