These past few days have been interesting to say the least. My mum
decided she needed new carpeting and tile in her little apartment at the senior complex. After a few
months of pestering the management, she got her wish. Personally I
wonder how they held out so long. The mumenator is seldom denied. That’s why she is the mumenator after all.
The problem with getting your wish is that sometimes we want things
and we don’t always think through all of the repercussions our wishes
may bring– to ourselves or to others.
For instance, mum never thought past the fact that all her little old
lady friends in the senior building got new carpeting and why didn’t
she? Dammit, she wasn’t about to be forgotten or left out!
If she had thought a little further, she’d have realized that meant
at some point all her furniture would have to be moved out into the
hallway. All her clothes boxes and bagged, all the food in the
refrigerator boxed in coolers as well. All her pictures taken off the
walls (the manager’s office insisted) and all the phones and the TV
disconnected and moved also into the hall.
She didn’t think about that. Or the fact that this would disrupt
everyone else on her end of the building, since they would be stuck in
their apartments unable to access the hallway until all of mum’s stuff
was returned to her apartment. Nor did anyone think about the fact that
since all her belongings would be in the hallway overnight, then someone
would need to stay with her items so nothing got stolen. Also no one
gave a thought to where mum would be sleeping since her bed had to be
moved into the same hallway.
As luck would have it, she recalled all of these things the day before the people came to install her new carpet and tile.
Oh, and I think I forgot to mention that the smell of the carpet glue
is intense. The noxious stuff hangs in the air for like a week, burning
your eyes, stealing your breath and making you dizzy.
I tried to impress on mum how much effort and work would be involved
in getting her wish, but my comments were dismissed. ::sigh::
As you might expect, it was nothing short of a fiasco. LOL.
Of course, it’s hard to think through any consequences or possible
problems when someone is giving you your wish, even one as simple as new
carpeting and tile.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
My Garden Is Calling Me
For what seems like the first day in ages, it is not raining. The sun is shining, the bees are busy buzzing, the birds are making it in mid-air, the squirrels are enjoying the peanuts I left for them, and my plants are blooming.
The scent of roses and hyacinth, sweet melissa and lavender floats on the breeze and in through my writing room window, tempting me to come outside and play. I want to be out there, the sun on my face, the wind gently blowing my hair, my bare feet cushioned by the soft waves of bluegrass.
In some ways, not much has changed since I was a kid in school. Those last few days of class drove me crazy. How could I concentrate on subordinate clauses, Sherman’s march, or algebra when Mother Nature sang to me?
I’ve made good progress on all of my current writing projects. And though I still have a few more thousand words until they’re finished, I deem this worthy of a respite.
I open the back door to make my way outside, and I am greeted by three wasps. Sentinels determined to keep me inside. So I spin back around, shut the door, and close the blinds. I don’t like feeling intimidated by three measly flying insects. So I grab a smudge bundle I happen to have and light it. I smudge the porch with the sweet, burnt smell of sage. The wasps are now watching me.
“Yeah, and I got more where that came from!”
Just then Bear drives up and sees me alone on the porch.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Those thugs over there” I say, pointing to the wasps, who are by now faking interest in our pink dogwood tree.
“Why did I even ask?” He says and shakes his head.
“Hey, I didn’t start this! They did.”
He goes on inside the house and behind me I can hear the buzz of wasps..and what sounds like snide insect laughter.
The scent of roses and hyacinth, sweet melissa and lavender floats on the breeze and in through my writing room window, tempting me to come outside and play. I want to be out there, the sun on my face, the wind gently blowing my hair, my bare feet cushioned by the soft waves of bluegrass.
In some ways, not much has changed since I was a kid in school. Those last few days of class drove me crazy. How could I concentrate on subordinate clauses, Sherman’s march, or algebra when Mother Nature sang to me?
I’ve made good progress on all of my current writing projects. And though I still have a few more thousand words until they’re finished, I deem this worthy of a respite.
I open the back door to make my way outside, and I am greeted by three wasps. Sentinels determined to keep me inside. So I spin back around, shut the door, and close the blinds. I don’t like feeling intimidated by three measly flying insects. So I grab a smudge bundle I happen to have and light it. I smudge the porch with the sweet, burnt smell of sage. The wasps are now watching me.
“Yeah, and I got more where that came from!”
Just then Bear drives up and sees me alone on the porch.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Those thugs over there” I say, pointing to the wasps, who are by now faking interest in our pink dogwood tree.
“Why did I even ask?” He says and shakes his head.
“Hey, I didn’t start this! They did.”
He goes on inside the house and behind me I can hear the buzz of wasps..and what sounds like snide insect laughter.
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