A (Dancehall) Day in the Life
It’s a glorious day today, weather-wise; a warm day – not just a not-cold day but an honest-to-God warm warm warm day with soft breezes and white clouds like scrim taking the edge off the sunlight. I’m outside, there’s fresh earth on my bare feet, my skin smells like honey, my hair like jasmine and vanilla, the boyos are playing together (Jack is pretending to be a dog named Cookies – inspired no doubt by Julie’s new puppy, Pancakes) and the windows are all opened to take in the fresh air.
I got the test results back.
I’m sitting out in the sunlight and warmth of the garden, watching the boyos play, and planning what I’m going to plant in the spring, and where, and I’m thankful that the techs didn't find anything disturbing, and I’m trying to decide if I want to follow up with an MRI or not, thinking that I should, but not wanting to think about it, so I’m back to watching the guys and wondering what to plant, and where.
Inside, the computer shuffles through my favorite songs and I listen – Shawn Colvin rides shotgun down the avalanche. The Foo Fighters have their hands on a miracle. Nickel Creeks wishes me out of the woods. October Project advises me to cover the mirror and hide in my dreams. Emmylou Harris dreams about angels turning to ashes and tumbling with me to the earth so far below, Michelangelo.
The last episode wasn’t so bad, but I made O stick around anyway, because I didn’t want to try and ‘watch’ the boyos when I couldn’t see anything at all. Luckily, the ocular passed fairly quickly, and didn’t take all my vision, and there was no pain afterward. It’s just an inconvenient bitch, though, you know? We could have gone to a birthday party that afternoon, but I didn’t dare drive. And I was fine, and the boyos missed a birthday party for no good reason.
So, I guess I’m leaning toward the MRI. I’ve kinda learned a lesson this week about better safe than sorry. I just want to switch my primary care physician first. I think I could find a sympathetic baboon who’d do a better job. (Sorry. I still haven’t gotten past the “Oh, I didn’t think you’d cry when I told you you’d better plan on having kids yesterday because it’s not going to happen for you” appointment.)
Ok, done with the bitterness.
So, I think I talked to every single one of my neighbors today, including S. a couple of blocks down, who was on her way to the hospital with breast milk for her twin boys. They were early, but doing just fine, and should be home soon. I’m seeing play dates in the future. God, I hate that term; play date.
Then I sat for a while in the swing in the back yard, and watched a falcon ride the air almost listlessly, until he dove and an incredible speed to catch a sparrow. You should have seen him arc back up about three feet from the ground. The sparrow escaped, lucky little thing. The falcon dove for another bird and missed again, I assume, since he came back up empty-taloned, and flew east.
Now to bed.