Thursday, September 30, 2010

JOY on her bucket

Did I tell you this before?

(don't let the dangling prepositions scare you!)

I think I've already started that thing older people do -

you know -

they tell you stories about that shopping trip six months ago on a Saturday morning:

It was in the spring. Yeah, because I drove the new car and they had bulbs for sale out front, Pepsi was on special and so was that Dial soap, you know the yellow bars? Not the liquid, no way, that's such a waste, it's the bar soap for me! And I ran into Buddy, you know from the shop? Remember him? That reminds me did I tell you about the phone call I got while I was in Arizona? Don told me that George had gotten hit by a car and died. You know George walks along the road looking for cans so he can turn them at the store for a nickel and anyway he was out walking after a snowstorm. A snowstorm! Yeah, I think it was the one that hit the day after we left. That's why we left early, you know. It was all icy and he didn't really get hit by a car and die, he fell on the ice and broke his hip. I found that out from my brother after we got back. Thought George was dead for oh, about two months. Or was it three? Guess he won't be walking along the road getting free cans anymore, heh heh heh. Oh and Buddy, well he just had a hip replacement last week, but that doesn't have anything to do with it. Buddy told me to come into the shop because that part I'd been waiting for was finally in. And I didn't even have that car anymore, I had just gotten the new one...

So, do I have a point to my story? I think so, but maybe it's just a point in my running narrative that will get missed in all the details. It doesn't matter to me what you think though, because like the older people I know, I'll just tell the story and it'll be up to you to follow it or roll your eyes and say you've heard it all before.

When we moved here eleven years ago, some new friends allowed us to stay in their house for a week while they were on vacation and while we waited for August 1st, the closing date on our home.

We were getting ready to leave because they were getting ready to return, so we tried to be good house guests and cleaned up after ourselves. I like to clean my way out of places, so when upstairs was done I worked through the living room and the kitchen was the last room. I needed to mop the floor, so I found the mop and the bucket and the cleanser, and just as I was about to start running some water into the bucket, I saw it.

JOY

In tiny print, written in black on a blue bucket was this single, small, humongous word. Yes, I know that is an awkward sentence, but this is my story now listen!

Now I suppose I could get all obvious and say something like, "We ought to tackle our housework with JOY!" Something like that. It would be a nice, predictable way to end all of this. I could get up from here feeling oh so good about myself and go tackle some laundry with JOY because seriously, there is a lot of laundry that needs done here and it seems that I'm the one who'll be doing it.

And it's possible that the obvious conclusion, what I first thought of the JOY bucket, was even her intent when she wrote it. I know I certainly need to write JOY all over a whole lot of things that make me think WORK, or YUCK, or WHATEVER, I GUESS I'LL DO IT BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE IS. So the obvious conclusion is actually a valid exhortation to find JOY in one's daily dailies. I'm not knocking it.

But you know, my friend of eleven years is a gentle and understated sort of woman and her bucket said

JOY

So I think now I know what she really meant. There is a quiet JOY to be found in unexpected places.

Sometimes those places are dirty buckets.

Or stories about shopping trips.

And I think I made my point.

Again?


Tuesday, September 28, 2010

but - he is getting better

El made this. I must give credit where credit is due. She's created a masterpiece depicting the last two months of life with our dog. And yes, we can laugh because he is getting better.

Caspian's (ok, also OUR) woes began right before July 4th. He's had a skin infection twice, and this second infection spread to his head.

He got a nasty case of conjunctivitis that started with red eyes and progressed to the red part swelling so much we often couldn't find the iris, leaving him temporarily blind. See above. But - he can see again now.

He's drooled constantly for weeks. The drool had the viscosity and adhesive properties of Elmer's Glue for a while. See above. But - now it's just thick enough to hang down in slimy strings. He likes to rub them off on the couch right before we arrive with a towel. (As an added disgusting bonus, he leaves froth in the bowl after he gets a drink. Froth. Like beer bubbles).

Blindness has prevented Caspian from engaging in one of his favorite outdoor pastimes: eating poop. See above reference to his breath. But - dog poop breath is only slightly worse than sick dog breath.

While he hasn't been eating poop, he has had mild interest in his food dish when we've helped him find it. He often got a bit of kibble stuck in the corner of his mouth, or more accurately, on the semi-dried drool/hair clump at the corner of his mouth. See above. But - I removed last clump yesterday.

I have nothing to say about the yellow teeth. They are just extra information. See above. But - they do add interest to the composition of the piece.

There's more. But - it's not in the picture.

PS. I need new carpet. And a new couch.

Monday, September 27, 2010

rainy morning gratefuls

316. Rainy morning, of course.

317. The rightness of obedience.

318. How much our girls like each other. Still. In these teenager years.

319. Twenty two years, one month and one week of marriage.

320. Time. Alone. For a while.

321. Mo seeing the spiders at the same intersection as I did days later.

322. A compliment to a daughter, because she's awesome.

333. El telling me about her sense of smell, and telling me she likes my smell.

334. Risky, vulnerable moments that are met with grace.

335. Friday morning conversations with my man.