Friday Morning Reflections

It’s nice to have a quiet moment. To sip some hot tea and nibble on a leftover brekkie and share with people what a small fragment of my day has been like. Do people look over this and think a lot has gone on or only very little? Do I really care? Only because I’m paranoid lol.

Today is the 21^st. It’s Friday. Monday is the 25^th and release date for Mass Effect II or whatever they’re calling it. Wednesday is the 27^th. I must have repeated these, apparently little known, facts a thousand times this morning and it’s not even 9am. Well, the Mass Effect thing is more a mental tally. Report cards need to be signed, permission slips need to be returned and one of us (us being parental units) needs to say we’ll go to the science fair thingie at the Elfling’s school. Apparently it should be a male…cause, of course, only guys can show girls the fascinations of science. That or the school finds mom’s do most of it so make the male side of the clan get off their arse and do something with the kiddies.

Conversation while I tried not to scald myself getting hot soup together for lunch seemed to focus on…of all things…owl vomit. The Diva was convinced that owls were first imaginary – like vampires, she said. And then her big fear was that they were human eating birds. I really should look into the games E’s played to see where she got that idea from. The Elfling is fascinated by the opportunity being presented to dissect the stuff at the above mentioned science fair thingie…god I hope E decides he can go to it instead of me. I dissected rat balls in high school and really don’t know I want to continue the legacy by deviling into puke to see what bones I may find.

Stepping out for the walk to school was a shock. I don’t know I’ve seen fog this thick since Chicago. The street glistened dully beneath the blanket of grey that seemed to envelop us as we stepped away from the door. Moisture hung thick amoungst it, making me shiver and wish, for a brief moment, that I’d put on a jacket. The Diva’s hand was cool in mine and she declared mine hot as we walked side by side, weaving around trash cans, recycle bins and loose bags of rubbish that lay on the sidewalk in wait for morning pick up.

Out of nowhere she mentions that chickens can lay regular eggs, a statement that left me amused as I had no idea what other eggs they would lay. She went on to explain that regular eggs are what chickens lay when they have no husband rooster. We wound up having an interesting conversation in regards to chicken families. I about fell over laughing when she declared that chickens are wives, roosters are husbands and baby chickens are called chicklips. It wasn’t till I saw the red light of brakes that I made out the car ahead. The mom of one of the Diva’s friend offered her a ride to school and let’s face it – who really wants to walk?

Taking on my confused dog, I took the long way home which cheered her up considerably when she realized we weren’t going straight to the house. The downside to the long way home is we have to pass this strange house that seems to always have the weirdest garbage out...well…I don’t know it’s necessarily garbage but food remains on their front lawn. It’s usually been like, bones (like chicken or pork) and bread…that’s all I really want to remember. Didn’t really notice what today’s mess du jour was but it left me dragging Freya to the next yard as she frantically sniffed and licked the grass. Making my way home in the still quiet, foggy neighbourhood I have to say one thing that really surprised me is how few people use their headlights in this weather. It reminds me of this one foggy day when I was a young driver. At an intersection I looked for oncoming traffic before making a turn only to just nearly miss getting hit by a speeding truck that blended perfectly with the fog. Scared the shit out of me.

I was in a bit of a rush this morning so I didn’t get the kitchen tidied up as I usually do before heading out on the walk to school. Checking the water in my electric kettle I decided it was hot enough for a cup of tea and set it brewing while whisking up dishes into the dishwasher and wiping down counters. Pausing at my tea cup, I couldn’t help but wonder if the water was hot enough given its incredibly slow fusion. The heat at my pinkie suggested otherwise as I contemplated the remnants of the Diva’s brekkie and set her piece of toast aside. Adding a spoonful of sugar to my tea, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. Even now I type between battles and sips of cooled tea I feel it. I remember tea as a child – early mornings with my Madrinha; those hard, ever so slightly sweet cookies I call biscots with o chá com açúcar e leite. I can almost hear her voice as I type that…see the look on her face as I’d finally succumb and take milk in my tea.

Ah well, as my friend’s blog goes – where there is tea, there is hope. Gods know, I could use a lil of that.

A day in the life of...

I think I deserve a break – a few min to start this blog entry while floors dry with inadvertent….or perhaps Freya is as nefarious as she is cute…and they are purposeful puppy prints that mark my kitchen floor. Oh wait…what was I saying? Ah yes, a break from cleaning to start this blog entry, see how a friend is doing and check in on Meister Penguin! Before getting back to it.

I woke up late this morning, mostly on purpose since the servers would have been down for hours before my usual 5am rising. Pollen counts feel through the roof according to the pile of bricks that seem to have found their way into my head…it’s like the morning after without the enjoyment of the booze that got you there. Avoiding the mirror, I had good time to twist my hair into a knot before tripping over Freya who’s always eager as hell to wake up the Diva with licks and snifflings. The Diva’s a smart one, that’s for sure cause judging by the impatient thwap of a surprisingly solid tail against my thigh; Freya wasn’t going to reach the other side of the bed where said Diva was curled up, fake sleeping. We have a couple rituals, beyond dog kisses is that I get “scared” by said sleeping child and we get a piggyback ride to the loo. Well, I don’t get one *sniffles* … It was actually quite amusing. Once E caught sight of me giving the Diva her piggyback ride and from our room, spoke with great concern as to what was wrong that our healthy child couldn’t just walk herself there. Humour all around to the explanation that it’s just something we do…hopefully not when she’s like…10 or something.

While airing out her bed I pondered how this entry would go. I prolly look like I spoil the Diva when I go about setting a couple things straight in her room or picking ideas for the day’s wardrobe…or is that couture in diva terms? She’s still at an age where she likes company while getting dressed AND I’ll still put her socks on for her and why not fold her pj’s while I’m at it? She actually doesn’t do a bad job of overall keeping her room somewhat tidy…wish I could say the same for the Elfling. *sighs* Yesterday we made a game of going through one of her drawers – ridding it of shirts too small or disliked for further life. Someday I’ll get the bags of outgrown things to Goodwill. Racing down the stairs I catch sight of how she bounces happily towards the kitchen in a vintage Cocoa Krispies t-shirt. I’m so lucky to have cool kids.

Return to the Ice Queen

So I wrote another poem. No…I’m not a poet or anything lol. To be honest, when I was a teen I wrote a great deal of poetry. Ghastly, angsty stuff that rhymed cause at the time I really liked it that way. This abomination? The picture of myself I get is in black (as I often am) with a stupid looking beret perched atop my head as I stand upon a stage. Smoking a clove cigarette as I speak in a very Shatneresque way. Another way of saying cliché, non?

Anyhow, this one came to me while washing dishes the other night. I’d say, especially when paired with my last poem, it could have several meanings. I’m just not going to tell you.

No. 2

Snow white furs streaked and smudged

Drew closed over her shoulders

Concealing, protecting from cold

The Ice Queen

She drew close to her King

Who sat upon her throne

Deep in thought In a sulk

Alone

Despite pale hands that rest

Starkly so on hepatizon

As tear filled eyes

Watched upon the pleading angel.

He arose at last

Leaving as she trailed

To the threshold where they wait

Minions surrounded

To follow in his wake

In quiet words

To the Dark Knight

Why go with soulless ones.

When I was always here?

Of Revolutions!

I mean…resolutions…crikey, I know the words sound a lot a like but they certainly have different meantings…right? Let’s pull up dictionary.com and see…

rev⋅o⋅lu⋅tion    [rev-uh-loo-shuhn] –noun

1. an overthrow or repudiation and the thorough replacement of an established government or political system by the people governed.

2. Sociology. a radical and pervasive change in society and the social structure, esp. one made suddenly and often accompanied by violence. Compare social evolution.

3. a sudden, complete or marked change in something: the present revolution in church architecture.

res⋅o⋅lu⋅tion    [rez-uh-loo-shuhn] –noun

1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.

2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.

3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.

Ok, so there’s way more meanings for each word but the first three will suffice cause I’m much to busy and tired to consider the rest of the options.

You know…they’re pretty similar if you ask me as I think most people make new years resolutions that wind up incurring in acts of violence…even if it is on an innocent pillow, hapless roommate/spouse or precariously living houseplant.

For most my adult life I’ve shunned the idea of making resolutions. I mean, why announce to those closest to you the intent to make changes that we all know will fall to shambles approximately five minutes after that third glass of bubbly. This year I had a moment of reflection – of fairly quiet reflection where I could say, if only to myself – “I’m going to strive to make some small changes that could amount to bigger ones in the picture of the darque faerie.”

A couple weeks into the 2010 and I’m sticking with some, flagging in one and trying to make good with one. This one. When I started this blog it was actually to deal with disheartening time in my life. I wanted to find peace with myself but be upbeat and interesting despite how I felt on the inside. As you can all see, I have been, at best, sporadic with that. This last year has been especially trying and I want to move beyond that. So here I am, trying to write, to share. I want to find something. Something that maybe will show, if only to myself, that I’m not nearly as lame as I think that I am. Especially when I see how ultra cool everybody on my facebook is.