Blog 4 0f 30
Rochester. (Pronounced Ruh'-chest-tuh', speak through your teeth, pour yourself a brandy),
Margaret, that's my mom's name. Only today, I feel how it pours…Margaret…the dog.
Andrea, masculine, for my deceased friend.
And Stella. STELLA! No explanation needed, unless you are unaware it means 'star' and other good things.
It's not been a dull day, though I confess rising at ten, helped on by many stifled alarms. Covid asks not to be pushed around, and as we are living in the the time of Virus, I shan't be assed to bother. Though normally I do, and I call as witness upon Sylvia, a dear friend, whose three dogs slept every night with me while in New Mexico. I'd wake at 5:45 am to heavy, farty, dog-breathed-air, tails wagging, raring to chase some squirrel or corner a skunk.
You know, Edith Wharton didn't rise until noon. You may know that, and that she was a great American writer and interior designer from the Victorian era, well-known for the "Age of Innocence" and my favourite, "The House of Mirth". Of course Edith, being a millionaire had no need to rise early, but lived quite high on the hog.
I need my sleep and blame my slow descent on the brewing and stewing. The dreams.
Carnivale meets Total Recall.
Adrift in this terrifying yet stupendous spiritual journey, change and growth is exhausting.
Remember when you first read Anna Karenina, you too were young and beautiful and had many naive and underdeveloped notions about love, drama, corsets, soldiers, face slaps, duelling pistols, intrigue, swords drawn, suicide, etc, etc . Having read it again recently it seems so, so…tragic, so easily resolved, such unnecessary suffering, and yet, all is necessary.
And today, all is necessary, the missteps, the backwards gaze, how sooner I recognise the errors in my thinking, the treatment I will not abide, how small decisions build a life, how I am begets I am.
Today I sat next to a dog whose name I did not ask. I believe he is partially blind. He first smelled my hand then we both sat on the step to the clothing store together. Now don't tell him I said so, but his breath…..wow! Thank god for masks. I slung my arm around him and held him, talking nonsense, and when I rose to go he put up a paw to stop me, so we sat another five minutes, after which I whispered I'd stop by again.
I'll be adding resources for the people and things that keep me inspired.
Recipe to remove odor after a successful skunking:
Hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, a dash of Dawn liquid detergent and lots of water. It works!
Be sure to wash the dog's face as well.