Mariah woke me up this morning around 4am.
Mind you this is the first day back to school and she still has another 2 1/2 hrs to sleep before she has to get up for the bus and I have to wake up @ five anyhow b/c that is when my alarm goes off but still…
it is 4am.
I am ASLEEP
it is very dark in the room, and the snores of three MiniPins, one basically blind, geriatric Poodle and an insane guinea pig are softly wafting in the backgroud.
But she is standing next to my bed waking me up.
B/c for some reason, she’s decided that she just has to know
(HAS to ok?)
Just HAS to know that “What if all the scientist are wrong?”
What IF the Trex really has really short arms b/c they didn’t use them for anything other than in their dance moves? B/c in all actuality, The Trex could just be history’s most misunderstood dinosaur and therefore will never be truly appreciated for the dancing Ninja dinosaurs they really were?”
I think I blinked at her quite owlishly and then said, What???
(while hoping like Hell I was dreaming)
But no, I am not b/c she repeats it and then said.. “Well think about it mom, it could be true, all those poor Trex’s. all these years and everyone thinks they are some horrid evil flesh ripping monster toothed meanies and all along…?
They really just want to Dance. its sad, really.”
I looked at her, my sleepy eyed, freckled, wonderful, smart, sassy, beautiful and now grown taller than me 15 yr old standing there in all earnesty and eagerly waiting my answer. I could see such a question from her if she were five years younger but… at fifteen?
But, I realised her mind just never shuts off. She is like me with that ever running hamster on that wheel & this question just popped up…
at four a.m.
I told her she might be right, they very well could have been just misunderstood Ninja Dancing Dinos & then told her to climb in bed next to me and then after she was snugged in close,
I whispered in her hair…
No MORE soda pop for you before bedtime, young lady, got it?”
I have not a clue from where they get their weirdness.
At least I dont know where they get it @ 4 o’clock in the morning.
Take five wonderful MoFo ladies.
Pour into several glasses filled w/delicious Margarita mix,
Toss in some shrimp w/cocktail sauce
Sprinkle with chips & salsa
(add another splash of Margarita)
Drizzle over with engaging Conversation
Stir in a LOT of chocolate
(brownies AND cake)
Soak for a couple hours in one cool swimming pool
(another liberal splash of Margarita)
Sautee some giggles for flavour,
Add several pinches of smiles,
A few smidges of hugs,
Several handfuls of understanding
A gallon of compassion-
A touch of kindness
Blend gently into ongoing conversation
Dredge with a few choice questions
Infuse with some spilled secrets
(Seal completely with Pinky Swearing which of course will stand up in any court of law in these United States…)
Shake all of this softly into one lovely condo
and five giggly semi loopy friends in their jammies
(and of course, some more ‘rita mix)
Smooth into the living room, then
Dollop gently upon the davenport and chair
Dash some lovely wine stuff from a blue bottle
(which was DELISH, I just can’t recall the name)
and you have basically a rough draft recipe of the FUN and ENJOYMENT I had Saturday July 12th with some of the most wonderful, fantastic women on this site.
JustaChick, Kistmyst, Mariafofia, and Suessyque…?
It was a rich and entertaining evening and I thank you for the invite, the giggles, the warmth and everything else.
It was a good evening all in all.
and brunch Sunday morning?
It’s 230 am and I can still hear him.
on and on and on…
Every bloody night!
Good Lord does he keep a freakin recording of his voice or is he just THAT puffed up with his own importance in the scheme of his life that he just wont STFU??
I understand he is lonely.
I understand he needs a mate.
I understand he is searching.
I understand he loves to sing.
I understand he is hopeful.
I understand he is needing to get laid.
I understand he is in the nesting mode.
I understand he doesnt care what time of day/night it is for he is not a slave to the clocks we humans have chained ourselves to.
I DO dammit.
Every year it is the same thing.
The Sun’s up!
The Sun’s down!
The Moon’s up!!
The Moon’s down!!
I just wish HE would understand that if he doesn’t SHADDUP for just ONE bloody night a week, I am going to hurl something at him.
one of my cats.
Bloody Bastard Bird..
so go sing over in the buffalo pasture where your dream lover might be waiting b/c she really isn’t lurking around my house after midnight you feather headed twit!!!
The tiny flames were hypnotic as they flickered & danced, keeping time w/the music of the band on stage. I heard the notes w/my ears, felt them in my heart & could almost see them as the floated past me like miniscule blue wings of tiny butterflies.
The music was heady & my mind wandered away mesmerized by the flames from the candles on the tables for they were reflected a thousand times, on the cutlery, the crystal glasses, the jewelry worn by the patrons, the highly polished tabletops & even the melted wax upon which they burned.
Somehow, someway as the music caressed me & the multiplying flames entranced me, part of me slipped away inside myself & clocked out.
I remember following the flames (there were so many) for they called to me (not aloud) but inside & only a corner of my mind could hear them. The tiny dancing fingers of light led me down a blue corridor that only I could see & I happily slipped over the edge of reality & left skipping along with them. I couldn’t help but follow for they surrounded me dancing about my ankles with warm glee & making me smile inside myself.
The corridor was long & also strangely wet. I looked down at my bare feet & saw blue liquid bubbling between my toes, tickling my feet & tho wet, didn’t put out the candle flames. I slowly came to realise that the blue fluid was naught but the musical notes floating about for as they touched the walls of the corridor, they became liquefied into this & it dribbled down the walls to puddle about the floor.
I liked it in the corridor. I felt lighter there, younger, more at ease in my skin. Not a single part of my body hurt & I felt as if all the stresses & weights of my world were lifted & I smiled inside of me & silently rejoiced.
I realised that somehow the flames seemed familiar, that somehow I knew them for they seemed as if I should. But I felt safe with them & followed them even deeper into the blue depths of the corridor as the music continued to play & supply the moist floor w/liquid blue notes. We turned a corner & it was then I realised that the flames were people I knew, friends & loved ones who all meant so much to my heart & who love me in one way or another.
I looked into their orange hot ‘faces’ & saw there smiles & acceptance of me. I laughed aloud for to realise they were here to keep watch over me in this corridor, they lighted the way for my bare toes to step & they guided me along this blue tunnel into which I’d followed them to help me not misstep. I saw friends from my now, friends from my past, my sisters were there, some co-workers, men I had loved, men who loved me in return, relatives I adore, & people who usually dwell on the edges of my life but who care for me in one way or ‘nother.
But they were there… in those candle flames & they burned brightly with their love to me & I was not afraid.
The music got louder & those tiny blue butterfly wings that carried the notes thru the air brushed against my skin. It tickled at first OH ever so softly as they brushed against my arm, my face, my shoulder. I let them light upon me & it was sweet. One of the butterfly notes landed on my arm & was heavier than the rest. I paused to look at it sitting there & was mesmerized as it seemed to be trying to change in shape.
The part of me that had slipped away down the heavenly blue liquid corridor stopped and looked back & was rather surprised to see the rest of me still sitting there @ the table of the restaurant where I’d gone for supper.
Slowly, ever OH so slowly, that part of me in the corridor, returned to the rest of me & the as the weights of the world & the years all rolled back upon my shoulders with each heavily trodden step. The flickering flames receded back from their millions of reflected selves faster and faster until each one was again in its place inside the small candle holders on the dining tables.
Just as slowly, the dining room came back into focus as the blue corridor receded & I realised that the weight of the butterfly on my arm was naught but the hand of my waitress. She had become concerned b/c I had been sitting in the exact same position for almost 20 min. Her real concern was that she hadn’t seen me blink in almost ten. She & another waiter thought perhaps I had slipped into an epileptic seizure & decided to see if I was all right.
It was a bit of a start to come back into me only to notice about 30 strangers all looking at me as if I were suddenly a leper or a drunken sot.
Even worse… trying to politely NOT look at me.
I quietly explained to both the waiter & my waitress about being a Narco & how sometimes we zone out like that & yes, sometimes even with our eyes wide open for extended lengths of time.
(It used to really freak Jack out when I did this)
I am not sure if they believed me or not. I showed them my MedicAlert tag that I wear when I travel but still..
you could see the distrust in their eyes.
But I drank my coffee she brought me (people so often think that caffeine is going to help) & I tried my best not to look at the staff members staring my direction or directly at the flames again for I didn’t wish to chance part of myself leaving again.
The dark brew was excellent so I asked for a refill while the band members played (fantastically I may say) & gave me strange looks (probably thinking me quite rude for snoozing on them so).
I tried to not make eye contact with any of the other patrons in the room then I paid my tab & left after the first performance, quite wide awake now & headed back to my hotel.
I drove down Walnut in this town I’ve come to like a lot, towards my hotel & as the setting sun warmed the skin of my arm hanging out the window & the wet, gray winds from the earlier storm tangled in my hair, I smiled remembering that dark blue corridor, the soft blue of the puddled notes between my toes, the many dancing flames that held the friendly faces of everyone I knew & loved & who loved me.
I realised that the part of me, that happy, dancing, laughing, carefree & younger part of me that skipped down the corridor was still here. Still inside of me, a true part, if not the real me I keep inside & I only need to learn to let her out now & then to play b/c she needs it.
I realised that I do let her out sometimes, mostly when I am with my friends or sisters or my kids, I just need to do it more often.
I don’t usually travel alone. Well I ‘travel’ alone locally, I just don’t like to travel to FAR off places alone or frequent any larger establishments alone simply b/c of possible situations like this one.
If I go out to dine while alone in a strange town, I dont usually pick such a swanky place, I grab something fast so I dont chance ‘crashing’ inside & having to feel foolish & humilated b/c of falling asleep. But I wanted to come here, I’d heard a lot about it from Michael & they had an opening, I just stepped up & nabbed the seat for hoots n hollers.
Even last year when I was sent to Chicago by my work for a seminar, I took my sister along with me for just these reasons. I needed her companionship not only b/c I love her dearly but also to help me in case I fell asleep in a strange town among strangers who mightn’t believe me when I wake up & have me arressted for public intoxication or something equally harsh.
I should have invited my friend Michael along to the Jazz place, but I didn’t. I ‘m not sure why I didn’t but I think it was b/c I wanted to go someplace with just me for one night & not have to think so very much about boundaries, friendships and such.
I wish I had invited him tho, for he would have kept me awake or at least been there to explain to them while I was zoned out.
I fall asleep.
It can’t be helped.
But it does help when I do it & I am not alone.
I will invite Michael along if for nothing more than the wonderful company I know him to be but also to hold my hand & keep me from slipping down that delightful cool, blue corridor with the flickering candle flames.
I measure the ingredients & add them to the softened butter in my huge silver bowl. Using the wooden spoon I mix and blend and stir and fold the nuts, the flour, the sugars, soda, spices and such into cookie dough & I smile as I stir, remembering to think thoughts of love & friendship with every third turn of the spoon.
I’ve flour on the floor, flour in my hair and I dont’ care one bit.
I like baking and baking cookies for friends and loved ones is always best for cookies are simply baked smiles and smiles are meant to be shared both with strangers, and those we hold dear and I can bake up boxes and boxes of sweet, sweet smiles.
I drop the dough in small, sweet, lumpy globs upon the parchment paper and then pop them in the oven to bake.
I watch as they slowly spread out and brown to become delicious bites of goodness that my friends will really like.
I like baking. I like to bake goodies that make others smile inside.
I dont use recipes very often, (except for my jams & those are MY recipes) but for the most part, I consider them to simply be ‘suggestions’. I’m always ‘tweaking’ a recipe b/c I like to play with my food & sometimes I come out with winner items.
Cookies are one of these I do well.
I take them from the oven, piping hot and pretty & let them cool into chewy/crispy rounds & then place them carefully in a box for transport.
and all the while I ponder the fact that while I am unable to share as much of myself with any one person in my life, not right now, not completely, not really, no matter how much I might want to, or crave to or even at times, hurt to; I can’t, and really it is all right for I’ve nothing of value to offer any one at this point in time other than myself and that just isn’t enough now is it?
Oh, I have friends I share me with, my children & other loved ones but to share the whole of me with some one?
Romantics may think oneself is enough, but sadly, I live in reality & it weighs much more than romance. It isn’t enough, not for any one & I can’t/won’t expect someone else to settle for less than what they also deserve to have in life and that is a whole person, with a whole heart and one able to accept theirs without question, without doubts, without a cargo hold full of personal issues and without having that need to always looking over their shoulder for that other shoe to be pitched their way.
So while I can’t share ME… what I can share are my cookies & other tasty items from my heart & my kitchen & in doing so, I am sharing not only my passions for cooking but also, Im sharing a part of myself, one cookie at a time, one pastry at a time for everything I make is baked with love and unlike flour, sugar, spices & herbs-
Love is one thing I have an endless supply of.
Seems no matter how much I stir into a batch or two of cookies, there is always a full supply in the crooked pantries, dusty shelves & hidden drawers of my heart b/c it just replenishes itself magically. I just scoop out a bit and add it to every recipe and think it with every third turn of the spoon.
Because unlike the song, it really isn’t just a spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine go down, love adds a lot more to the bizarre and hodgepodge mixture of life if you ask me.
Sugar IS sweet… but it is Love that makes the world go round.
So, I bake it into my food and I hand it out in the shape of those cookies which most likely arrived @ their destination inside one of those white ‘SparKy Boxes’ as Just A Chick has dubbed them.
The boxes are free.
It is the baked goods inside that cost but what they cost me is nothing more than the wonder of how many dozen cookies does it take before I realise that it is not what I am bringing to the party that counts, it is the smiles and hugs and love I get from those I adore in my life that love me whether I have in tow a ‘SparKy’ box or not.
I like to bake and I love to bake for those I care for in my life.
If you have eaten any SparKy cookies, whether they weren’t as good as you wished they were or perhaps even better than you imagined, remember they were baked with lots of love found in the broken bits of her heart and it is only an unbaked smile from you in return that she ever asks for & is ensured of this by thinking thoughts of love with Every Third Turn of the Spoon-
I slipped away in the rain to head north last Wednesday evening for I’d plans to go see my friend Michael & pick up some growlers from Upland Brewery for the Doctor’s dinner this Tuesday.
It was a long & wet drive, lonely too for I couldn’t even roll down the windows to listen to the tires sing, or enjoy the smell of the rain or the scents of the countryside as it slipped past my window mile after mile.
But I knew I was going to be seeing Michael & this is always a good thing to focus on b/c good friends are the trimming edges of whom we ourselves have become & he is a good friend to me & has been for over five years now.
He wants more than a friendship but it is more to than I have to offer right now so we stay friends & simply enjoy each other’s company when we can. We never voice this aloud but it is there, hanging between us more tangible & obvious than the wipers now slapping against my rainy windscreen.
I splashed thru a hundred miles of rain that was sluicing over my KIA in buckets. I sang along w/Alison Kraus, Tracy Chapman, Don Henley, 3rd Eye Blind & WFPK for awhile & all along I was getting closer to a town I enjoy visiting & the smile of a friend who I wish lived closer.
I pulled into the restaurant where we’d planned to have supper & he was standing under the awning waiting for me. The look I got from those blue eyes let me know that he missed me as much as I missed him & I’d not laid eyes on him since March.
(sometimes- it is so good to be missed)
We sat next to each other & talked and laughed, had some delicious steaks along w/other dinner type fare, then thought about dessert but both of us were too full. We conversed a bit longer & then left splashing thru the rain while holding hands.
(it is also nice to hold hands sometimes even if it is the hand of a good friend instead of a lover)
We had a lovely evening just hanging out, listening to jazz & talking. Then he dropped me off @ my hotel to shower & crash while he went home to his daughter.
In the morning we met for brunch after his meeting @ work & we sat in Cracker Barrel & talked for quite a long time after my delicious & maple-y pancakes were long gone & his plate too was empty.
The fact he actually LIKES to talk to me & about most any subject is a HUGE plus in our friendship. I like to listen to his voice & watch his expressions while he speaks b/c he tends to smile a lot & this causes those warm gingersnap crinkles around his soft blue eyes to deepen & his smile more genuine.
We ended up spending the day together, stopping @ Upland’s to purchase my growlers, then to the market, then to Dick’s Sporting Goods, ran a few errands, then stopped @ the cinema to watch ‘Fool’s Gold’ which wasn’t a bad flick when viewed w/friendly company in the dark.
Afterwards we went to a hole in the wall to munch upon some golden crispy fries & warm melty grilled cheese sandwiches that to our surprise, we both slid thru pools of salty/sweet red ketchup before we bit them. We talked as we ate & found out a few things we both needed to know & suddenly-
it was time for me to go & I realised I really didn’t want to, not just yet for it would be another month- 6wks before I saw him again.
So we drove around a bit longer, just talking but time was against us & I had to leave- HAD to for not only did I need to get home to my children, but the KIA is out a headlamp again so it was best I get home before dark.
He slowly took me to my car (left in the parking lot of his workplace) & we said our goodbyes even tho neither of us wanted to. He hugged me & his arms were firm & warm & I realised I like the way his rich sea-blue eyes look into my chocolate ones & that I also like the feel of his arms around me but-
I can’t go there.
So I kissed his cheek & he held my hand for a moment neither of us saying a word this time & a silence filled with unspoken words & unvoiced thoughts can be OH, so very deafening.
Then I got into my car & again I slipped away in the rain only this time- away from him & heading south.
It was a long & wet drive, lonely too for I couldn’t even roll down the windows to listen to the tires sing, or enjoy the smell of the rain or the scents of the countryside as it slipped past my window mile after mile.
But even tho these miles took me away from him,
I knew my kids were waiting for me to come home
Just as he had been waiting for me to come there
& I needed to see them for I missed them even if I’d only been gone
not even 24hrs yet.
I have so many wonderful people in this life.
Not only my children & sisters, but OH so many many more.
I don’t know what I did to ever be so blessed beyond measure for those who mean so very much to me, to have come to be considered in my heart as friends & whom have touched my life in some way even if it is just around its frayed edges & yeah-
Even if they live 100 miles away from my doorstep,
they are still right here in my heart whenever I think of them
& I do-
& I think of the warmth of his hand in mine & I realise-
I can’t go there.
I have to stay on this side of friendship no matter how hard it is to do so & I realise I am going to have to watch my step
EVERY step in this friendship I have with this man 100 miles from my doorstep.
if for nothing else but because my life is here and his-?
& 100 miles…
is such an achingly long distance between
Once upon one morning this week; I was sleeping but then the kids got up for school and I was awake after they left.
I however, continued to lay there with the dogs
(3 MiniPins- Tate/Rosita/Phoenix & a Poodle- Candy)
and three cats petting them for awhile.
Yes, they were all piled on the bed b/c they do that with me for some reason.
It was all fine and dandy until Polly (a bigger dog) wandered in the bedroom and decided she was going to climb up on the bed too.
The three minipins all jumped up (ON ME) to give Polly the ‘what for’ which made me yell b/c of their little pointy feeties drilling into my body,
which made Spooky my cat mad so she swatted Tate
who snapped at her and so
Spooky took it out on another cat, ChiChi who in turn hissed at
the other cat Kyoko who in turn jumped off the bed,
landed on Polly who yelped b/c of Kyoko’s claws
which pissed off Phoenix who then jumped on my face,
so I pushed him onto the floor
but he landed on ChiChi who jumped on the bed to get away from him successfully landing on
RositaBonitaBananaFanana who in turn fell off the bed
and at that point I said
GET OFF ME SO I CAN GET AWAY FROM YOU JEALOUS HOARDS OF FURBALLS!!!!!!!
Candy was the only smart one of the bunch, she just laid there and laughed at the riot.
The guinea pig in his cage however, started shrieking his fool head off and I am SO very happy that Stella (another big dog) was outside on her chain and Esme was upstairs in my daughter Zara’s bedroom with her kittens.
and Sooooooooooooo my day began!
I have come to realise lately just how much it floors me how sometimes ‘friends’ expect us to be infallible but- they do.
Expect us to be I mean.
I make mistakes.
I fuck up.
I FORGET a lot of things.
Times/dates/appointments/places I am supposed to be, things I promised/said/told you I would do.
I get sidetracked.
I am sometimes LATE.
It isn’t a personal affront to YOU however, stop taking it so.
I have kids.
(Explanation for many things lies in those three words right there)
I have OTHER obligations sometimes that really unfortunatly ARE more important than you.
I have a job that requires LOTS of my time.
I have a home that does also.
I say things I shouldn’t.
I say things sometimes that make no sense, make too much sense, that are out of the blue, off the cuff, skittering sideways or caustic.
I say things that are quite sarcastic, witty or even downright stupid, or lame or completely UnFunny.
I say things that are backwards, jumbled or will leave you scratching your head wondering at my sanity or where I left the rest of my damned mind.
I say things that are too blunt, too rude, too casual, too tactless, too snitty and sometimes (sadly) hurtful.
I go places I shouldn’t.
I do things I shouldn’t.
I don’t do things I should.
Sometimes I am fun to be around.
Sometimes I am a heck of a LOT of fun to be around.
Sometimes I am not.
Sometimes I am downright horrid.
Sometimes I have stress out the whaazoo or slash and burn PMS and NO one wants to be around me including ME.
Sometimes I can talk to you about nigh on anything.
Sometimes I can’t.
Sometimes I avoid you.
Sometimes I hang around too much.
I have many MANY shortcomings.
I WILL as a person, be a disappointment to you now and then.
NOT intentionally, it is just that I am not perfect.
BUT I am still your friend and I love you.
Friends should be allowed to muck up now and then.
Friends should be allowed to stumble sometimes.
Friends should be allowed to be a ‘tard on ocassion.
When did there b/c a criteria for friendship that was so very strict that if I muck up just ONE time even a minor infraction…
That you can’t TALK to me?
To tell me you are hurt?
Or that you are mad with me?
Or that I can’t BE your friend anymore b/c I faltered?
Or that you wont’ even TELL me this, you will just from set point on avoid/ignore/neglect me until I finally give up and go brokenheartedly & sad and yet wondering away out of your life?
What kind of a friend is this that places such harsh measures on another imperfect person and expects them to be what even they themselves also cannot possibly aspire to ever be?
You too are imperfect.
You too fuck up.
You too forget.
You too stumble and falter and fall.
You too sometimes have a size 8 1/2 tongue depressor.
But, I as your friend will do my best to forgive you,
accept you and your shortcomings,
help you to your feet when you fall,
catch your arm to stop you when you stumble,
hug you when you are hurting
and wipe your tears when you cry.
I will as a person and a friend-
TELL you when you have hurt me,
or when I am sad,
or when I am furious with you,
or even that I am glad you are my friend and in my life
and I expect you to do the same for me.
Tit for Tat- THIS is what friendship is.
It isn’t tally keeping or one upmanship or holding grudges or seeing what one can do to the other instead of FOR each other.
I want you to walk WITH me, beside me and be my company;
not try to dodge me
or outrun me,
or lag behind so I must do all the initiating if I want to see or talk to you,
or play hide and seek or leave me in the dark to wonder..
WTF did I do now?
I shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells in a friendship.
Or tiptoe around you,
Nor you me-
I should feel comfortable enough in your company to be ME.
I also know I am not so big a person that when I do fail you in whatever fashion…
that I am not above saying …
I am sorry.
And MEAN it.
And hope I will be forgiven by you.
For Yes, there is a world of difference between me apologising and you forgiving me.
I as YOUR friend, will always give you room to falter and I will always give you room to stumble and even to fail.
B/C none of these?
Are what makes you my friend.
They are only what make you the person that you are,
the person I care for and count as a friend,
they aren’t ‘things’ I should hold against you,
for I have too many of my very own that YOU overlook in the favour of being my friend not BECAUSE of them…
but in SPITE of them all.
And I will ask NO MORE from you, than what I have the right to expect from a FRIENDSHIP with you.
I do however, expect to be comfortable enough in our friendship that when I do fuck/muck up…?
That I needn’t worry if you are still going to BE my friend afterwards.
B/c life is too bloody short for anyone to have to constantly checking their ass to be sure they haven’t stepped inadverntedly on another’s toes and then stress themselves to the point of tears wondering what can be done to FIX something, that they had no idea they broke b/c the other *friend* couldn’t speak up, or step up and say..
HEY… I am needing to talk to you.
Yesterday was my only day off this schedule until next Thursday & since I hadn’t heard back on any Monday Lunch outing plans from Steve, I decided to just stay home on my side of the river. I hadn’t really any plans to DO anything else other than Monday Lunch but.. whatever.
I ended up going in to work anyway for 6 hrs so my daughter could study for some college tests. I baked the Hell out of about 18 dozen cookies for both work & the upcoming Drumline Band Performance in Dayton. They leave tomorrow & I’d promised them all COOKIES to munch on during this outing.
By the time I left I was quite tired & had there been plans for a lunch, I may have skipped it anyway b/c I was in a bit of a fogbank so when I pulled out of the new hospital’s parking lot, for some reason, I turned the car right instead of left & found myself heading S on 135 towards Spooky’s house.
I’ve not seen her for awhile b/c Im a horrible friend & I’ve neglected our friendship terribly. I’ve been too busy for this or too tired for that or I’m down in LV w/MoFo friends instead of driving the 6miles to her house to see her.
It wasn’t guilt that made me go there yesterday, it was most likely just plain old missing her. That & the fact she/we have this connection. I always seem to know when she needs to see/talk to me & vice versa.
Once I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about her & got up & rang her house. She had been sitting @ her table, writing a letter to me & wasn’t surprised @ all that I called. We do this often but then I do it often w/many people I love deeply & whom mean the world to me.
I pulled up & her dogs barked only once. I smiled @ them & reached thru the fence. They know me well. Perky answered the door & stood there shaking his head @ me. I said, I know, I KNOW.. I’m horrible & I’m a few weeks late. He said, It isn’t just that Dawn. It’s the fact you never disappoint me in arriving here after we’ve just been talking about you. I just grinned, hugged him & said.. She & I may be apart, but we are still together. I would miss her if she ever left my heart, but it is my head that hears her calling to me & I come. Hugging me back he said, Yeah, I know. She’s asleep right now but she said you’d be by & here you are. I just hugged him harder & kissed him Hello on his cheek.
He stepped aside & let me in & I was immediatly attacked by nine assorted colours of wannabee puppies. Obviously, one of her dogs had a litter & they were adorable! I squealed with delight & dropped to the floor & was assaulted by 36 baby paws, 9 noses, 9 tongues & 9 squiggling bodies of puppy love.
As I sat there wallowing them about, Perky did the dishes & we chatted about things, life, you know, surface chatter stuff. It was good. I’ve missed him too, he’s such a goof but an honest, sincere, loving, hard working, honourable & sweet goof. He is good for Spooky. Always has been. He loves her & she loves him. It is always good in their home.
Perky had to work so he left a bit later. I fixed some lunch for us to eat when she awoke, baked a lovely chocolate cake, took the puppy mob on a stroll about the yard while waiting for Spooky to awaken. She didn’t stay asleep long, we Narco’s dont’ always take long naps & when she came out of the bedroom, she started giggling b/c she knew I’d be there.
We talked & Talked & TALKED for hours about girly things; men, chocolate, sex, food, kids, pets, money, men, chocolate, sex, food, kids, pets, money, men.. you know, the IMPORTANT things in our lives until I reaslised the clock was nigh on midnight-thirty & I had to leave. I had to work today & I needed to go home & crash.
She asked if I’d stay as Perky would be home quite soon and would be bringing pizza. But I had to go. She cried, I cried, I didn’t want to go home just yet but I had to leave, if I didn’t then, I mightn’t make it home & end up sleeping on the side of the road again.
I drove home thru the thick dark thinking to myself how much Spooky means to me & yet for some reason, I find it hard to make time to see her as often as she deserves or I should say, as often as WE deserve.
I need to change this.
I need to be a better friend.
I wish there were more hours in the day, more days in the week, more weeks in the year and more years in our lives.
I also wish there was less gray on my head, more sight in my eyes, more pep in my step, more Umph in my ass, LESS junk in my trunk, more money in my coffers, more gas in my car, less exhaustion in my eyes, less miles in between us and yet, there couldn’t be more love in my heart for this woman and her presence there, takes no space away from my other friends that I adore.
She is a wonderful lady, I am honoured she still counts me as her friend.
Even when I don’t darken her doorway as often as I should.
I believe that all things happen in our lives just as they should happen even if I’ve choices to pick from, in the end, it all evens out & what goes around does come back around to me in one way or another be it in this life, or my next.
Perhaps I wasn’t supposed to go to lunch yesterday, perhaps I was supposed to stay here, right here, and take care of a friend who loves & misses me instead of indulging myself with my bi-monthly Luncheon outing w/my men friends & whomever else comes along, on the other side of that river’s bridge.
Perhaps instead, I was to spend the day w/a lovely woman, who loves me as much as I do her.