(Perfect breakup outfit: Goodwill nightgown + gray pashmina. Notice how the house
languishes in the background as if nothing is amiss.)
Sidetrack breakup story: Once, in my salad days (does that even mean anything?) of 21 or 22, I had a REAL bad breakup that required me to listen to Gordon Lightfoot, on VINYL, singing "If You Could Read My Mind"...ummm, maybe a hundred times? The tears, they flowed like wine. And the next day, when I showed up for work at the Alzheimer's Unit with my eyes swollen nearly shut, they just went ahead and sent me home--you know, to avoid confusing the patients. Just who did they think was going to make sure the women stayed out of the men's bathroom is what I wanted to know. Oh, how I miss those days. But not that jerk who broke up with me. Kidding!
So anyway, the abode. It's coming along, I guess...it's just that...man, I wish I could move beyond StitchWitchery. And speaking of education deficiencies, how did I miss out on typing? My sister is super-speedy (and a little show-offy) when it comes to the keyboard; while I may as well be typing with my feet. No offense, Christy Brown. All I know is, I took some "computing" class in lieu of typing, and I don't remember learning anything. I do recall the boy I used to sit beside, and that once the two of us made a list of all the foods that would taste good with chocolate. Useful, right? I do so love to entertain.
Sigh. If only select items of furniture could weave themselves an entirely new exterior overnight. I wonder, is this what heaven will be like? Regeneration of tired chintz....mini-blinds rising phoenix-like and becoming custom roman shades? Or, will we just not care? All will be well, I suppose. Now--and then.
While we're talking of chrysalis and rebirth, how about this?
My brother-in-law, who is crazy, smart, and game for most anything, convinced us to raise our own monarch butterflies from eggs we'd be able to find on the milkweed that grows around here.
They started out as little pin-dot caterpillar eggs, and at the end were the most gorgeous butterflies I have ever seen. And I'm not just saying that because I raised them-they really are spectacular, and the entire process was so fun for our family. When the first one emerged, we all let out a yell and then watched through a few tears as it flew away. Butterflies, they grow up so fast, you know. I do wish they'd stick around and teach me to sew.
p.s. Observe the mess through the window and tell me you feel my pain.
p.s. #2: Look how dirty my husband's fingernails are. He's a working man, you know. A modern-day Paul Bunyon minus the blue ox.