Life Among the Never-Winged

Once upon a time I was writing a book called, "Just Another Love Letter", about angels behaving badly. Now I just quietly ask myself each day, "What the hell am I doing?"

My Photo
Location: The Rocky Mountain Empire, United States

My friends always knew I was going to hell. My only hope is that God likes good jokes and bad redheads.

Life Among the Never-Winged Sponsored By:
  • Books Unlimited
  • Wednesday, August 15, 2007

    Two for One, or The Accidental Buddhist

    Posts piling up. Here's a sample.

    * * *

    Two (or three?) Mondays ago. Most of my fears are settled. People return my calls, and they all have good news for me. A time is set for the evaluations. My financial aid is credited to my account. My textbooks are on their way and I'm saving almost $100 buying them through Amazon. My laptop is back, repaired, and free since it's still under warranty. Lottery numbers, anyone? I'm hot!

    Wednesday comes, and I'm crashing back down. I can't even name it. The boyos are bored and cranky. I'm getting a cold. I can't think straight. I can't write, and that's like being unable to light a cigarette. I read, sinking into blogs, into novels, into anything black and white and not a part of my life.

    I download music. I discover Vampire Weekend. That cheers me immensely. Then there's Reindeer Section and Gary Lightbody is singing all the things I want to hear.

    Emails pile up. I'm supposed to be working on a tattoo design for a friend and she's wondering where it is. Clowncar emails with fantastic news and I'm pathetically slow in responding. Rain cancels a get-together with a neighbor who criticized Jack and I'm relieved. I don't even attempt to reschedule. I haven't bought food since before RockyGrass and I'm scraping the bottom of my pantry. (Not that we're starving. You haven't seen my pantry. I perform miracles with prosciutto de Parma one night and Thai vegetables the next.)

    I make a chocolate cake because Jack tells me he wants to learn to cook and bake, 'before you're gone forever.' I swear, I didn't start out to make my boyos existential. He's just incredibly insightful. He asked O and me the other night if we played together as kids. O said, 'No, we didn't know each other.' Jack thought for a minute and came back with, 'You guys are lucky you found each other.' The boyos will be five in about a month. I'm really, REALLY too stupid to be their mom.

    * * *

    And last Sunday:

    Life in Colorado is green. A little too green. Green outside is fine. Green outside is right. Green inside though...

    We have a basement room we rarely go into, filled with my old things. The boyos had made a mess in there at one point, so there were clothes on the floor and some quilting fabric and artwork from high school and college. Not anything I need, but stuff I can't really throw away. We'd just closed and locked the door to keep them out.

    O noticed a musty smell when he ducked in there to grab my sleeping bag for Rockygrass. And I could hardly sleep with is mildewy smell. But it's a very old sleeping bag, no stranger to damp Illinois basements, so I didn't think much of it.

    Today we decided to go in there and clean. I picked some cloth off the floor and it felt cold and tacky, almost damp, like clothes taken just a few minutes too early from the dryer. I noticed the paint on the walls bubbling out. And then I knew what had happened. The room had flooded. Not a grand flood -- we would have noticed that. No, a seeping in the walls and floor. Rising damp.

    A moldering eucalyptus wreath left green fuzzy stains against the floor molding and wall. The brown carpet was green and fuzzy as well. And there was a cardboard box of my clothes that I didn't unpack after we'd moved...

    The worst though was an old photo album from high school and our wedding guest book. The mold seemed to like leather the most. And I still need to go through another wardrobe box of my business suits. (What DOES dry-cleaning cost these days?)

    I ended up throwing out seven bags of memories and old clothes. But, I don't feel so bad about it. Everything is changing. The boys are going back to school and so am I. The bookstore is closing. I hardly recognize my old name anymore.* Maybe we'll even get out of this house one day.

    Hey, so I guess this makes me an accidental Buddhist.

    *I thought I was going deaf at RockyGrass. Clowncar and Lil Hux had to call my (real) name two or three times before I'd hear them. Then on the second day, someone shouted 'Nancy' and my head shot up. That's when I realized I wasn't deaf, I was just unused to my own name.

    P.S. Cheesy, I'll get to your meme next.

    Labels: , , ,

    15 people left me a love letter:

    Blogger Irrelephant wrote in a love letter...

    "The Accidental Buddhist." Sounds like the title of an indie movie. *grin* Basements...hmmm. Never heard of them. Damp, yes. Mold n mildew, yes. Anything built underground? What, you mean like underwater?

    So speaking of Buddhists...didja hear the one about the Buddhist monk who went to New York on a cultural exchange tour? He really wanted to try hot dogs so he found a vendor pushing a hot dog cart around and said to the guy "Make me one with Everything."

    But wait, there's more!

    The vendor handed the monk his hot dog, and the monk passed over a $20 bill. The vendor tucked the bill in his register and started to walk away so the monk tugged on his sleeve and said "Excuse me, what about my change?"

    The vendor turns to the monk and says "Change comes from within."

    4:55 PM, August 15, 2007  
    Blogger Mother of Invention wrote in a love letter... the joke above!

    So one has to slam back down to earth after a great holiday...slowly would be good though!

    You are brave starting a whole new world of school. Good luck with all of it. I'm sure we'll hear about it here!

    7:18 PM, August 15, 2007  
    Blogger meno wrote in a love letter...

    The bookstore is closing?

    See what i picked out from all that?

    I am excited for you to go to school. You too?

    Nancy in the sky, with diamonds.

    9:02 PM, August 15, 2007  
    Blogger Bud wrote in a love letter...

    They boyos are smart because of you. Trust me on that one. The book store is closing? How did I miss that before? The rest of your life seems to be moving down a good path. I like the sound of it. Too bad about the lost remembrances but I keep them and never have the heart to look at them. Can't explain that. Glad you have a good attitude about it.

    9:19 PM, August 15, 2007  
    Blogger Schmoopie wrote in a love letter...

    Jack is your "mini-me" so I think maybe you should just be surprised that he vocalizes those things. I think you spent your childhood thinking the same things, but didn't have anyone to share them with. Or maybe you did? Anyway, both of the boyos are "scary brilliant." I love Jack's insight. Did you write it down somewhere, with the date, so he can laugh later?

    Say "hello" to Arapahoe CC for me! Nice campus. Good people.

    None of us can remember your birth name either. ;) You'll always be "Nancy Pants" to us. :)

    9:50 PM, August 15, 2007  
    Blogger Stucco wrote in a love letter...

    Pants, from pantaloons, because you are a looney. In a good way.

    9:57 PM, August 15, 2007  
    Blogger liv wrote in a love letter...

    Oh, it was one of those weeks here, too. Basement flooding, plumbing leaks... ack.

    7:50 AM, August 16, 2007  
    Blogger Orange wrote in a love letter...

    Hey, Nancy—send me an e-mail and I'll send you the Equus picture. I don't remember where I found the link to it, and I don't see it in a Google image search, But I sent the picture to a friend so I have it lurking lewdly in my e-mail archives.

    I'm orangexw over at the gmail and the dot and the com.

    8:52 AM, August 16, 2007  
    Blogger Des_Moines_Girl wrote in a love letter...

    Mold - ugh! Try Chlorox Clean Up Spray. Works wonders!

    The book store is closing? It's been too long since we last talked!!!

    9:25 AM, August 16, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    How many Buddhists does it take to change a light bulb? None, unless the bulb WANTS to change...

    Thanks, MOI. I'm sure I'll bore everyone to death with stories of biology, physics and algebra. :-)

    I see, meno. Yes, after almost 18 years, it's closing. Too many factors against it. I'll post about it at some point after I run stuff past O.

    Aw, thanks, Bud. You missed it because I think this is the first time I've mentioned it. I imagine you have a lot of remembrances from students.

    Yeah, I was a quiet kid, Schmoop. But things have changed, huh? ;-) Jack isn't ever afraid to say what's on his mind, thank goodness. I actually haven't been on the campus yet, just past it. I'm sure I'll be late to class and get lost in the halls. Without my books. Or schedule. Or locker key. Naked.

    Aw, Stucco! *Mwah*

    Not you too, Liv! Sweetie, you are not having a good week. *hug*

    Woo-hoo. I'm on it, Orange. Heh. I'm such a dirty old man.

    I'll have to try that, DMG. I've got an air purifier going 24/7 in there now. And I think I'll have to import a dehumidifier. They don't really sell them out here in the desert. The bookstore's a recent decision. (I just emailed you.) How's the Giant Baby? :-)

    10:19 AM, August 16, 2007  
    Blogger ms chica wrote in a love letter...

    Closing. Bookstores aren't meant to die. They supposed to be sold to other like minded individuals, but for for them to close and die seems unnatural.

    Flooding, bleh. I had the misfortune of sucking four inches of water out of the floorboard of my ride last week. I feel you on that one, even if only a little.

    1:53 PM, August 16, 2007  
    Blogger Cheesy wrote in a love letter...

    Oh man sweetheart... I too can't toss things unless something like that tragedy happens... Makes me sick to think the books got ruined. But~
    You will ALWAYS have the memories that were entrusted in them... huge hugs and goooood luck with the clean up. God I adore your boyos and I’ve never even met them... hugs the wee ones for there crazy auntie cheese.

    9:07 PM, August 16, 2007  
    Anonymous d-man wrote in a love letter...

    It's good to d-clutter.

    4:26 AM, August 17, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    I agree, Chica. But it's a sig(h)n of the times, I guess.

    The memories are the important things, Cheese. Hugged, and hugged. :-)

    Especially after a D-saster.

    3:31 PM, August 17, 2007  
    Blogger amusing wrote in a love letter...

    Peter Walsh, Clean Sweep, would tell you the physical aspect of the memories weren't being honored if they were mildewing in a basement. Keep the real memories, toss the clutter, feel lighter. So he says. I'm trying it here....

    Bookstore. Sniff. You hinted at it elsewhere, but I am sad that I correctly interpreted the hint.

    Kidlings -- many are geniuses at that age. It's just the way they see the world. The Eldest, ages ago, commented that train tracks were like a poem, the way they ran next to each other.... I stopped and thought about that one for ages.

    New life. Good to look forward. Yay for all of you. Hugs.

    7:57 AM, August 19, 2007  

    Post a Comment

    << Home