Seems like every morning I wake up and look around me at all that needs to be done. I could start right there, cleaning off the vanity beside my bed which holds books for Owen and for me and buried underneath New Yorkers from April or even February. Who knows?
I pull myself out of my dreams (Susan Sarandon was my avatar in last night's dream, making love standing up with some guy, her beautiful older-woman self all red hair flying as she called out in ecstasy) and shake my head and then it's on to let the chickens out, feed the cat, feed the dogs, get the paper, and everywhere I look- something I should take care of. Plants that need watering, the garden that needs weeding, the chicken coop that needs cleaning out, the porch that needs sweeping, the kitchen counters that need clearing, the floors that need mopping, the everlasting laundry that needs doing, the refrigerator which needs scouring....
And, and, and.
That woodpecker is back at it, knocking his head against a dead branch and I feel that he is my brother. At least he is in search of bugs. Me? I am knocking my head again and again against everything and nothing is accomplished at all and if it is, it all needs redoing within 24 hours.
I realized this morning that what I need is a staycation, but not one where I use my home as a home base to sit in leisure and drink umbrella drinks and read old magazines but one where I turn off the phone, turn away all outside obligations and GET SOME SHIT DONE AROUND HERE!
Seven days of overall-wearing, down-in-the-dirt-doing, down-on-my-knees-scrubbing, trash-bag-filling, furniture-moving, plant-digging, getting-up-early, getting-things-done, taking-a-nap, getting-up-and-going-at-it-again.
A week's staycation of hard labor is exactly what I need.
With maybe a little Susan Sarandon-like screaming thrown in to make it a real vacation.
I swear, I could spend two hours on a one-foot-square area of the kitchen counter, just throwing away stuff and scrubbing and creating order. Two hours, at least.
Well, not any time soon.
I also dreamed last night that I was being evicted from the gorgeous magical house I have dream-inhabited for years now. I wonder what THAT means? Lord. I am going to try not to make any more out of that than I need to. And here I thought it was MY house, ghosts of the Titanic dead in the basement and all.
Monday morning. Owen's coming soon. Mother....
Perhaps my eviction is hers, too. I would hate to think so. The brain does get facts tangled and makes bejeweled fantasies of them, doesn't it?
Onward. Life is never one set of tasks accomplished forever. And now Owen is here and drinking his smoothie. Fuel for the day ahead. Me too. There is no rest for the weary, there is no rest for the wicked.
Happy Monday, all y'all weary, wicked loves.
I'm first!!!! Ha ha. TA DA!ReplyDelete
I love you. Happy Monday. Whatever.
Dammit. I wanted to be first!!!!!!!!!!!!!!ReplyDelete
Oh well. I'm in line behind SB and today, that's good enough.
Happy Monday, Miz Moon. Hoping things go smoothly with mom and you get a chance to have some wuiet time in between.
BTW--did Mr Moon have to shoot the fox? (Too bad it couldn't have been Fox News...just sayin'...)
LOL--my WV is OVENCONS...I feel like that somedays...
There's a woodpecker that lives in the trees across the street who constantly thrums on the powerline transformer. Sounds like a drill. Three crows were sitting on the wire staring at the woodpecker like he was Nick Nolte or Charlie Sheen or something. I think I even saw one of the ravens raise a black wing to its head and circle it round, as in "He is loooooooooocoooooo. Craaaazy."ReplyDelete
And I know what you mean about the cleaning and the stuff to do. I usually save that stuff until everyone has gone to bed and I'm tired and clumsy. Last night I dropped the bag of tent stakes on my head trying to put them on the closet shelf. xoxoox
oh feck..i wnate dto be first...uhm..now that i think about it..beeing the first and the fastest isnt always a good thing!ReplyDelete
I feel it on the tip of the fingers to write what you need but will refrain. I'm into minding my own business. Hope that the day gets better. I know that I can start mine over at any time if I so choose.ReplyDelete
It's true, Dan, it's nice to let someone else win sometimes :)ReplyDelete
Ah, Mary. I looked after my friend's 21 month old for 24 hours a couple weekends ago, and I was slammed right back into that state of being able to do absolutely nothing else but look after him. You get nuthin' done with small people around.
You do have the most wonderful vivid dreams. I seldom remember mine but when I do they certainly don't compare to yours.ReplyDelete
What would we do with ourselves if we weren't always planning what we need to do next and then chastising ourselves for not accomplishing it?
Oh Mary, I know how you feel. I have a cleaner and I'm still on a hamster wheel of tidying and organising and washing and hanging things up.ReplyDelete
Susan Sarandon sounds like a perfect avatar for you. The nicotine patches are giving me very vivid dreams. Who knows what it all means. Probably nothing. Love you xx