April 6, 2017 – Thursday
Today’s choice was writing or working. Guess which one won out? I spent the morning cleaning woodwork. White woodwork. Lots and lots of white woodwork.
I recently adopted a “black lab” who has an undercoat of the grossest human-like hair I’ve ever seen on a dog. And she’s shedding. It’s almost eerie, as she has what used to be akin to my hair … brown, baby fine, falling out! I can brush her every day and get a grocery bag of this disgusting baby hair off of her and go in the house and it’s like she explodes upon re-entry. Fur-hair, once again, everywhere. I think the last time I had a black dog I vowed to never again have a black dog. I should listen to myself more often in the color department. But, she needed a home and color didn’t come into play. So, now I spend an inordinate amount of time sweeping and vacuuming and brushing and furminating and wiping down white woodwork and laminate floors – both of which seem to be absolute fur-hair magnets. It’s disgusting! I’ve even taken to vacuuming the dog!
And, she is never in the bathroom – so, why does it look like I’ve had the cast from Planet of the Apes taking showers and drying off in there? There’s hair everywhere! Seriously. It grosses me out to even write about it! The only time the dog comes in (and it’s only her head) is when I’m in there brushing my teeth. She’ll nose the door open as if using a battering ram and stick her head in with eyes wide open as if she were going to catch me doing something nefarious! Nope, just using my spin brush and some Crest. She eyeballs me and then gives me a quick dog nod – as if saying, “Ok, carry on.” and moonwalks back out of the doorway. She reminds me of an eel I saw once on one of Tim’s scuba videos … sucking back into his watery cave in some rocks.
I laugh every time she does this however, because it’s funny and endearing and her eyeballs are so big and so white in that salt and pepper face! What does she think I’m doing? Eating something in the bathroom that she’d like? Sneaking a smoke? She’s like the teachers and hall monitor that used to blast into the high school girl’s bathroom (the gross, dimly lit one by the cafeteria) – hoping to catch someone illicitly lighting up. What they found – at least when I (and my peeps) were in there, were girls with too much mascara on applying a 15th coat of the stuff. And, when they’d barge in – one of us would end up poking ourselves in the eye or smudging something … their arrivals were so abrupt!
And while I’m thinking about that bathroom … why anyone chose to smoke in that one is beyond me! It was always the one that teachers and the google-eyed hall monitor poked their heads into. (Go to the 3rd floor by the language rooms – those bathrooms were so deserted they were creepy! Fastest pees ever!) But, perhaps, that was part of the risk … daring to do something that brought with it a good chance of being caught. Well, by one of the teachers … the google-eyed hall monitor could only see with one eye – the other was trained on the ceiling – so, I guess your chances were 50/50 with her!
I digress.
I was on my Gazelle this morning (am not on it enough – kind of an elliptical thing) and was bemoaning my “stems” … not any flowers I have in the house (my daffodils are just fine, thank you) but my legs. Except for a fleeting 18 minutes while I was at some gawky, thin, super odd stage in my life while in 4th grade – I’ve always had meat on me. If I was ever in a group captured by cannibals – they’d let everyone else go and just keep me! Jackpot! The village is having a feast tonight! I can just hear them arguing over who gets the legs! Seriously … never going anywhere that has cannibals. I won’t even watch The Silence of the Lambs!
Stems. They sound so much more willowy and lengthy than what I’ve got … which are pretty much trunks. Tree trunks. Think sequoias … giant redwoods. Seriously. Except for those 18 minutes, I’ve always had trunk-like legs and in the past few years they have gotten ever more so tree-trunky. Sigh. Hence, the Gazelle. I need low impact but lately I’ve been getting LOWEST impact … so, that is changing. I might have tree trunks as legs but I can walk and workout and change them into those of alders or aspens or at least dinner-plate maples! Keep going, Les! Move those stems!
Yesterday I read a quote that said, ‘Just because I can’t sing, doesn’t mean I won’t.” I love that. I love to sing. I just can’t. I’d sing my kids to sleep and I think they fell asleep faster just so they wouldn’t have to hear me anymore! I have not been blessed with a good set of pipes. I can hum on key (most of the time) – but make me put words to that rhythm and the pigs will be running home in no time! Sooie!!
I remember once, eons ago, I put on my (omg, I’m aging myself) … walkman and untangled the (always tangled) headset/headphones (no little ear buds back then!) … and popped in my daughter’s Beauty and the Beast (pertinent these days with the new remake) tape (yes, not even a cd) … and went for a walk around my ‘hood. It was evening – my favorite light comes at twilight – and it was lovely and I decided that since no one was out, I’d sing along and I got carried away with the lyrics and I found myself practically skipping down the sidewalk belting out, “… there must be more than this provincial life!” when I practically bumped into some guy taking out his garbage cans. All he said was, ‘”I couldn’t agree with you more!”‘ Good thing it was darkish out – he couldn’t see me blush. I think that’s the last time (except for when behind the steering wheel) I’ve belted anything out in “public”.
And, I find that sad. So, I’m going to change that – today. I’m going to make a playlist on my phone and go for a walk and morph these stems and use my pipes. I’m gonna belt out every Disney tune I know and anything else I want to sing and my neighbors are just going to have to understand. Just because I can’t sing, doesn’t mean I won’t!