Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Postcard from the edge of the universe


I had one of those days...have you had one?

One of those days where you wake up and your dreams were as rich as syrup and the colors and the feelings stay with you even while you rise from a deeply emerged state of sleep.

Its hard to shake those morning moments when the fairy dust residue of your nocturnal wanderings hangs over your head like Napalm making you gloomy and disoriented while you struggle to adjust your eyes to the morning brightness and banish your dreams to wherever dreams are stored.

It is further juxtaposed from reality if you have a to do list of chores written the day before that didn't allow or take in to account that you were going to wake up in a weird mind with the wrong lens on your mental camera photograph of the day.

You drink some stiff coffee and reconcile yourself to the fact that the dream world is far removed from the "real world" (thank goodness) and begin to tackle your list..the list that existed before you slept and dreamed....

The drinking of coffee and referring to the list worked for me on this particularly odd day where I found it hard to shake the dream state.

The reality is I have company coming and I needed to get the guest house ready. We recently refurbished an empty rental unit that we own and are using over the summer and fall for guests that visit. It is cleaned and ready except that the shower needs a shower curtain. I had that incorporated into a long to do list as these guests are "business guests" and even though I hadn't met them - I wanted them to be comfortable and to feel welcomed.

This explains my morning trek, sans breakfast to the local dollar store to find a shower curtain.
The dollar store is a wonderful place.


The things you can buy for a dollar!

I don't go there enough to get jaded apparently, so I was entranced with everything and finally filled a basket. When I walked up to pay, I saw out of the corner of me eye, a woman...

this was an Amazon women.

She was at least 6 feet tall and every bit as stunning as Cindy Crawford at her career height.
As we waited in line we listened to the cashier patiently ask each customer head of us it they would like to donate there change to a charity. Gosh I old would that get each and everyone all day long.. asking each person that.
so when I got to my turn in line I said

"I bet you get tired of saying that."

She smiled and said "yes."

Meanwhile, Cindy Crawford only better, behind me, proceeded to go off on a total rant about charities being rip offs. Because she was so tall and physically elegant and because I am so short and un elegant I was privy to her upper mouth and she was missing a tooth!

The one that is supposed to reside next to the 2 front teeth.

She was so beautiful and so angry and yet all I could focus on was that gap.

She ranted on and on, this most beautiful Cindy Crawford look alike person.

I felt the heat of embarrassment creep up my neck. I felt like I got the cashier into something by my words.

I was never so happy as when I was rung up and could grab my bags and flee the crazy "Crawford" woman!

What gives?

I thought as I drove home...

what is it about passion losing itself, if it comes in a mouth with a missing tooth?

I hung the shower curtain for the guests and then I wrote this story

I don't pretend to know what it all means.
The old woman sits with hands crossed
she remembers back to a time when those same hands
watched while others held the rough edge of a blanket
elders showing her the art of smoke signals
no longer used
now reduced to the stuff of old stories
fire, water, smoke,
blanket = communication
between far away people
a sort of primitive prairie binary code
if you will
one puff yes
two puffs no
now all of it taken care of by satellites
we gaze at them each night
their existence burns in the heavens