Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Brown Bag Day
So, Pearlie is gone. She is resting, wrapped in her old quilt, buried in the bosom of the dirt and I'll plant something over her grave.
Actually, you know what? She is not resting. She is dead.
If we all just "went to sleep" when we died, we would close our eyes but we don't. Our dead eyes remain open but we no longer see out of them, we no longer need them.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry to be so morbid today. I think everything has caught up with me and I am not in my "right" mind, whatever that is, but in the wrong one. The one that defies what I see around me, which is gorgeousness everywhere. The stupid-doody-headed mind that whispers, "All is for naught, so what, so what, so what?"
Gotta call my mother. Mr. Moon is ON it. He's making plans, he's calling people, he's got it together. Me? I'm creeping around the edges of the issue, filled with as much fear as a tiny child presented with a house full of sour milk and father-slashed furniture; a weeping baffled mother.
I had the most elaborate dream last night. It was like this:
There was a series of events and they all started at the same place but would proceed with differences and the goal was to come back to the original. It took me awhile to figure this out, that yes, they started the same, but then went in a different direction and at first I resented all this work of trying to make my way back but eventually, I came to enjoy each and every "act" and at the beginning of each, I was delighted to see where this one would lead and I knew that I was getting closer to the place where I had started, the place I needed to be.
Keith Richards was involved.
Oh my. How tired are we going to be of hearing about Keith Richards again?
Mr. Moon may be going to Las Vegas with his sister at the end of the month. They are going to a memorial service for Mr. Moon's dear, beloved Aunt Elizabeth and I could go too but as I told Mr. Moon this morning, "Just the thought of trying to figure out what to wear in Las Vegas for three days is enough to send me right over the edge."
I mean it.
I wish I was a more normal person sometimes. (No, all the time. No. Maybe. I don't know.) A person who could bear the thought of packing for a trip, who could go to stores and buy things that normal people buy, clothes and such. Shoes. You know. Right?
A person whose boundaries seem to get closer every day. Will they finally get so small that they choke the life out of me?
That would be so sad.
This is such a wide world and so filled with wonder and beauty. I know it is. I have seen some of it.
My chickens hate being cooped up all day. Do you know how many common terms we use that originate with chickens?
The candle we put on Pearl's grave last night is still lit. It burned all through the night. It's a candle I bought in Cozumel at the Sedena grocery store. It's where we go to buy our rum, our candles, our dish towels. It's right across the street from the waterfront.
I save those candles for special occasions. They cost about fifty cents.
My dishtowels are almost worn out.
I have three dogs now. That's plenty.
I have to call my mother. Yes.
It's all caught up with me but I have to keep on, running as fast as I can anyway. It's very hard, sometimes, with so much weight trying to anchor me to one spot.
I don't think it means anything that Pearl's candle is still burning. It just is.
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I think it just mean it's a good candle.ReplyDelete
I hate Vegas. With a passion.
Have you read what Stephen Hawking said a few days back about heaven being a fairy tale? I can't find the article right now. He said that when he dies, his brain will shut down like a computer that will never turn back on. I liked that analogy.
I could find meaning in chipped paint and overturned rocks, so naturally I find it in the candle too...but...I have been known to read into things too much.ReplyDelete
(Understatement of the century)
It just all keeps going and so do you. Your light's still burning too.ReplyDelete
It's going to be fine.ReplyDelete
Well your dream is like life right, how you're figuring it out? Really fascinating actually.ReplyDelete
Great pic of the dogs.
Go easy Mary.
I for one am glad you're not "normal"
But I sure know what you mean.
I'm tired of hiding.
Sigh. I don't have words to "make you feel better." I have to agree, actually. Life is freaking hard nearly all the time.ReplyDelete
Let us know if the candle goes out. :)
I like your kind of "normal" ... Vegas doesn't seem like your kind of place or mine!... Embrace your beauty and your needs..... Your cozy home.. your family... your garden... the chickens... Owen's beautiful energy... and that light you capture in your pictures... That is your kind of Vegas.... a place where overalls are all the rage and bras are not required... Love that!! Glad you like Asheville... I swear there is magic in the mountains there!ReplyDelete
Much love from Lisa in Michigan
I liked Hawking's analogy, too.
Zeke is now my favorite of your dogs. He's so tiny, I want to SQUEEZE him!
I love you fucking shitTONS.
Pearl's immortality has already begun. That dog on the roof, that dog that played ball with herself; you've set her stories eddying into the wide world.ReplyDelete
Keith would probably go to surreal Las Vegas. Did he really snort his father's ashes?
And now that the dog society has been reconfigured, could the others not be told, Hey--no more shitting and pissing in the house? (without the question mark, of course)
Yes, I know I'm loopy. Ate yet another egg and am high on protein perfection. I had so meant to have chickens out here. But since I don't, I felt nothing but appreciation for the tidy little red fox who trotted past the kitchen windows yesterday evening.
I hated Steven Hawkings pronouncements. Hell, what does HE know? (yes, yes, that's a joke).....but as far as what happens when we die....I repeat, what does he know?ReplyDelete
Yes, the computer may shut down, but what happens to the spark of energy that ran it? I dunno either but I have better ideas than Hawkings.
I'm not sure I know of a pooch who has had a better send off and honoring as ole Ms. Pearl and she deserved it.ReplyDelete
Remember I am happy to run interference if you want with your mom. Call me. Good luck all the same.
14 years of following you around is a LONG time.ReplyDelete
I am sure you can still hear her tip-tapping through the house.
The candle and the new planted "something" are a good place to go to when you miss your Perl just a bit too much.
Thinking of you Mrs. Moon!
Just catching up on your last few posts... So sorry about dear Pearl. You did the most loving thing letting her go.
I wish you peace and blessing.
Anything you wear in Lloyd can be worn in Vegas. Seriously, don't even take a bra wif you're that opposed to them. Overalls, t-shirts, flip-flops - there are no rules. It's Vegas!ReplyDelete
Go - it will give you tons of things to write about, I'd love to read your perspective of it.
I am glad you are the way you are. If you were different something would be missing in creation. All the universe would sense the loss.ReplyDelete
I am an 'over-sensitive,' agoraphobic, bra-less woman who seldom buys (or wants, really!) what others buy, who doesn't leave the home range without good reason these days.
But without us, who would do what we do in just the way that we do it? We are part of the whole, part of the perfection, you see. Just like Pearl. I don't think that ever changes. I don't think our being-ness can be 'un-been.' Not by death or anything else.
This prolly makes no sense, but it does to me.
Dearest Mary, you'll find the strength to deal with your mother.ReplyDelete
I will never tire of hearing about Keith, surely that was a good dream, right?
If you don't want to go to Vegas don't. If you do I'll help you with clothes.
I'm glad the candle is still burning. Love you xx
PS. Still haven't sent your parcel, to be honest I'm waiting to get paid so I can put the final thing in. Money is so dull! Will send asap.
Stephanie- I did read what Hawking said. I don't know, even still. He may be right. He's pretty darn smart. Okay. I think he's right.ReplyDelete
SJ- What would it mean? Pearl was a good dog. We know that. But I look for secret meanings too. I do.
Lisa- I think I'm on night-light mode.
Jo- Your lips...
Bethany- I hide in bright daylight. We clever ones know how to do that.
Elizabeth- It did burn out but it had run out of wax. Yes. Life is just HARD a lot of the time.
Lisa- I am so glad to have you here. Thank-you. Oh yes. Thank-you.
Ms. Bastard-Beloved- Zeke? He is a good small dog. Do you want him????
You would be a wonderful Zeke Mama. Come and get him!
A- Oh man. Gettin' high on eggs! Things have changed, huh? I will have a talk with the dogs. They've been good today, at least. You know, I can't even remember from reading the book if he snorted his father's ashes. Maybe on the listening, that fact will stick with me. I wouldn't blame him for doing so. Why not? I've licked my fingers....
Lo- Pearl knows but does not care, most likely. I'm with her.
Ms. Fleur- My conversation with her went fine today. I'll be going over there tomorrow after we meet with the folks at the W. Oaks. Thank-you, sweets. I'm sure I'll be calling on you.
Necklaclee- Did I spell that right? Hello! And welcome. Thank you for your sweet words.
Michelle- I miss your guts! As Billy would say. And I mean it.
Lucy- I've been to Vegas. I like it in a very odd way. But no, I cannot wear overalls there. It would be way too tacky. I don't care what everyone else does. I'll let Mr. Moon and his sister have some together time and I'll stay right here. But thanks. Maybe I'll write some of my Las Vegas memories.
Invisigal- Makes sense to me too and on my good days, I feel the same. On my bad ones- well, nothing makes sense to me.
Christina- I'm sure I'll be writing about Keith. He's an obsession. And listening to his book read at least partly by Johnny Depp? Well, how can one not fall into the spell?
I love you, dear.
I had a vivid dream last night as well. It was about dogs on airplanes and how they were nearly frozen from the flight. Weird. Pearl's energy is still soaring I suspect. I hope so anyway.ReplyDelete
HEY! Don't forget that we met in Vegas.ReplyDelete
And what are the names of those doggies of yours?
Ebb and Tide, dear. Ebb and Tide.
And yes, you do tend to stress and overpack. But once you get somewhere you submerge yourself.
One of the MANY things I love about you!
Oh honey, I am so sorry. Sending you some extra love.ReplyDelete
Syd- I sure as hell don't know how any of this stuff works. Dreams or energy. But it's all pretty interesting.ReplyDelete
Omgrrrl- I fear that no trip to Las Vegas will ever compare to that trip. In fact, every one will be a vast disappointment. It's like I had the penultimate trip there when I met you- why bother to try and recreate what cannot be recreated? God, that was fun.
Terena- I sure needed it. Thanks.