Friday, September 23, 2011

Summer Scraps & Morsels

When someone asks how my summer was, I'm always a bit, good?  Crazy?  Utterly exhausting alternating with euphoric sandwiched between layers of anguish and gaiety?  If I could just download blurbs into your head....

     If, by chance, you should be so inspired to spray your lawn with "weed killer," be sure to first calculate exactly what percentage of said lawn is actually weeds. If this figure is like in the....85-90% realm, re-evaluate this decision. Or you might just spend two months with a crispy brown yard, frantically planting grass seed, and praying to the lawn god for forgiveness.

Emergency Room
     Holy crap, Scrubs is real.  After the adrenaline rush had passed and the gushing waterfall of fear had been reduced to a trickle,  I took a deep breath and leaned back.  The previously ignored world outside our curtained cubicle erupted.  "You stick the broken leg in 2 yet?"  "I gotta drain the fainter in 6."  "3 puked again, ya wanna grab some lunch?" "I know, here's the vamp dregs from the neuro--he is SO HOT!"  The gum-snapping, glitter-manicured, bad breath-laden crew carried on while I sat quietly watching Him sleep.  One of the most terrifying days of my life was just a day at work to them.  Perspective is everything.

I never did get to see the hot neuro.

     The dog barked madly.  The boys came running, "Mooo-om, there's a bird on the ground!"  Excitement, worry, fear.  I dried my hands on the kitchen towel and let myself be drug to the yard.  It was tiny.  The fluffy head with bright eyes studied me back as I knelt.  "chirrrp."  Soft,  Almost inquiring.  The wing was...not right.  And the leg missing.  Who knew how, there was nothing left to do but provide peace.  My garden gloves stained, but smelling of earth and green, scooped the feathered frailty up.  I left the boys and dog behind, promising them I find her a place to rest and get better while she and I knew I was finding her a place to die.  An old broken tree limb, ferns quickly snapped and layered into a soft nest.  She cocked her head as I settled her, eyes on me.  Quiet.

I thought of the fragility of life as I sat on the porch with the fireflies that night.  I read two stories to the boys at bedtime instead of one.

     This is a direct quote from my horoscope in the Pittsburgh City Paper printed on August 3rd.  "Aquarius, you're in a phase when you have extraordinary power to learn from and adjust to the challenges that come from having your buttons pushed by those you care about."   Seriously??  Ummm....bite me.  And my buttons.

     I love to read, rather fanatical about it actually, but after a few months filled with slightly disturbing dreams I decided to experiment and stuck intentionally to a string of lovely summer books. (Rose Pilchner & Maeve Binchy types)   Filled with laughter and family, they have afternoon tea by the seaside and settle with a whiskey by the fire in cozy cottages as the sun sets, usually with an old dog by their side. 

I still dream of vampires under the floor boards, knife fights with three-armed women, and aliens that suck the memories out of my head with a tube attached to my ear.  What the hell?

     I set my hair on fire while roasting marshmallows.  Twice.  What can I say--I am waaaay talented.

Matchbox is from Satan
     While I was much impressed that my self-controlled 12 year-old actually saved up $65 for the nifty new matchbox car with a video camera in it (I mean, allowance is only $5 a week folks) I was not prepared for the immediate loss of privacy this was going to entail.  There I was, reading on the porch...quiet, little itch, look up--Sawyer is holding this car, looking at me.  "I taped you mom!" he says.  And flips it over so I can watch myself on the little screen.  And there I am, next to the ivy and rosemary, scratching under my boob.  Loooovely. 

     We put an underground fence in for Hazel. (my neighbor....KIDDING!)  She's a year old now, half rottie-half shepherd, all crazy pup.  I insisted that both my husband and I try the collar out on ourselves (no, not WEARING it, you sicko!) just to make sure we agreed with the level of shock.  Whatever you can't do to yourself folks, you shouldn't do to your animals.....well, except fix 'em when they're 6 months old. (although I think my parents really re-thought that one when my sisters and I started dating)  So He does it first.  "No big deal honey, she'll be fine."  Then it's my turn.

I almost wet my pants.  Hazel hasn't run off since.


Out on the prairie said...

Life sounds full of blessings.Glad you didn't try the colllar on.

Shrinky said...

Aww, I love your take on Summer..!

Adam Hawthorne said...

Oh, I love it, especially since it confirms that I am not alone in thinking that some hospitals are like scrubs. I encountered the same thing at mine.

Oh, and right-on about weed-killer. That's why I've given up on trying to have a lawn at all and I've just let the weeds take over.

Chantel said...

Prairie--dear Lord, but just imagine the post if I HAD! (

Shrinky--educational meets hairy and sniffly. Smooches!

Adam--for a while I was seriously thinking about squirrel sacrifice or grass dances in the nude...

le Chef said...

Its been an adventurous year, hasn't it? I think on some cosmic level we're sharing those dreams.
It was sweet of you to help the bird - I always hate things like that, because I cry, and then the kids know.

I managed to kill green too; mostly my vegetables. WTH?

...maybe next year, eh?

Mom et al said...

Oh, how I have missed you!

moi said...

I like coming by here for the music. And the laughs. May your fall pass by emergency-room free.

Blissed-Out Grandma said...

You're so right about the emergency room providing perspective, once the fear has passed. And your story about the bird is really touching and sweet and sad.