This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese. The stove seems so far away. ~ This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese. Fridge and pantry, you got this. ~ This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese. You need to clean the drip pan under the big eye. Nooooo! ~ This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese. It’s cold outside my comforter fort. ~ This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese. Real mac and cheese is too hard. Pout. Sigh. Maybe a tear or 2. ~ This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese. Will you even be able to enjoy it? ~ This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese. We got this. ~ This is me getting up to fix macaroni and cheese.
“I’m sure they sit around and talk about everyone.”
“And the most humiliating part was the superintendent was sitting beside me.” He paused talking but not pacing. “Gay!”
“What did the superintendent say?”
“Nothing, I can only speculate that he was too shocked to say anything.”
Oscar finally sat on the couch, “what did you do?”
“I left.”
“I’m very proud of you.”
He wrinkled his eyebrows. “Why?”
“No panic attack.” She smiled.
“I’ve been too pissed to have a panic attack.” He laid his head on the back of the couch.
“So what are you gonna to do?”
“What can I do?”
“You could file a grievance with the school board. You do have a room full of witnesses.”
“Yeah, but there were other teachers involved than just Cindy. If I get one, I want them all.” He looked at Esther, “let’s go for a walk. I need to get rid of this energy.”
She smiled, “sure.”
This time they went walking toward town. They lived about twenty minutes from the city limits and another fifth teen minutes to the school. Once you got past their property lines, Mr. Cox owned cattle. He was getting along in years but his daughter was interested in keeping up the family tradition that went back to his great grandfather. Past the farm, there was a bridge. Esther sat on the rail of the bridge. The view all around was amazing.
He moved to where he was standing between her legs, “a penny for your thoughts.” He smiled.
“I just can’t get over how beautiful it is here.”
“The last time you were in Kentucky; where were you?”
“Richmond, Lexington area. I know Kentucky has amazing scenery. But I never saw anything like this.” She paused for a moment. “This is just gorgeous and peaceful.”
He put his hands around her waist. “You’ve lost some weight.”
“A little. It’s this diet of yours. We have to keep you from being in pain.” She smiled, and touched his nose with her finger. “If you’re gonna be in pain, at least it should be fun.”
He had to look up to see into her eyes, the way they were positioned, his forehead was at her chin. “How come you never made it down to this part of the state?”
“Too much going on.”
“We might have met sooner.”
“I would wager not. Everyone I knew was either a cop or a criminal.”
Spring. How I love you. The Earth is waking up. Trees and flowers are blooming. Gray, depressing days move out for days full of birds and sunshine. *deep breath* Beautiful.
Tuesday, I’m sitting in the doctor’s office, my sinuses full of “love dust” aka pollen. The doctor puts his hand and his hip and say, “it’s beautiful outside. The sun is shining. Weather is getting warmer. You want to sit out there and soak it up. Don’t. Don’t go out there.” As hard as it is, he has a point. My black car looks dirty yellow it has so much “love dust” on it.
How to be productive when the pollen count is 10.6 and the doctor said “no, don’t go?”
I did the one outside thing that ‘had’ to be done, early. Before the 82 degree day gets into full swing. Made 2 little strawberry beds for the plants I bought at Wal-Mart yesterday.
🙏🏻 to healthy strawberries plants and me not being stupid for being outside.
How does this qualify for my Waste not. Want not series? The wood I used for the beds I already had at the house.
Oscar came home about 3 o’clock. She thought it was odd but then again, school hadn’t started yet. When she opened the door, she didn’t see him, she saw a thunder cloud. “What’s wrong?”
When he came in, he started pacing around the living room. “Let me tell you about these amazin’ people that I work with. Traditionally today, we have lunch catered in, cake and ice cream to celebrate everyone’s birthday. Things get too wild throughout the year so we all just decided to do it on the first day of in-service. Lunch was Mexican. Not much there I can eat. Cake and ice cream were chocolate, I wouldn’t eat it. My ulcer is doing better but I’m in no mood to test it. One of the teachers,” he threw his hands up in the air. “Cindy. In front of God and everybody walks over to me with a piece of cake and says,” he put his hands on his hips and changed the tone of his voice to an irritating squeak like register and every tenth word, sometime less, clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. Beginning with the clicking noise, “Oscar, ain’t you gonna eat,” tongue click, “your piece of cake?” Tongue click. “No, I said. I don’t want any cake.” Tongue click, “well you only picked at lunch and now no cake,” tongue click. “You might offend someone.” I replied, “It’s not my intention to offend anybody, but I don’t want the cake.” Tongue click, “well, I think your just being rude. I mean after all,” tongue click. “This is for us all.” Tongue click, “and seems to me you’re not being a team player.” Tongue click. He pointed at Esther, “I tell you never in my life have I ever wanted to shove a piece of cake into anyones face as I did that cow.” He started pacing again, “Cindy, I have an ulcer. Chocolate aggravates my ulcer. I’m not gonna eat that. She lets out a long sigh and holds her chest.” He held his chest like she did. His hand was palm down in the center of his chest. Tongue click. “Oh my stars, she giggled!” He hissed. “She turns and looks at some of the other teachers in the room, giggling!” Tongue click, “You know some of us have had several conversations about you,” tongue click. “We’ve speculated that you were gay.” Tongue click, “until you brought the new lady in town to the Christmas Bizarre.” Tongue click, “Oh and the prom. She giggled again.” Tongue click. “Then we thought maybe you had A.I.D.’s, that was why you are so skinny.” Tongue click. “Another thought was an eating disorder.” Tongue click. He started pacing again. Tongue click, “I am so thrilled that it’s just an ulcer.” Tongue click. “Why didn’t you tell us,” tongue click, “that you had an ulcer? We would have made a white cake too.” Tongue click.
“Gay, A.I.D.’s, an eating disorder. So they sit and talk about me?”
Let’s talk about: Sherlock Holmes, science, art, science fiction, climate change, nature, photography, crime novels (Wallander in particular), geography, pets. I don’t care as long as I get to talk to you.
Welcome. For those of you that read my work often, you have read about some of my dreams. I try to write down the more interesting ones. Sometimes it takes a minute or two to get them down. The really good ones stick around. They are fuel for my pen.
I have been listening to the audio book Metamorphoses by Ovid. And watched Troy with Brad Pitt the other day.
Here is my latest weirdness.
Everything in this dream world is white. A completely blank space. The air of confusion is thick. Easily understood without seeing anyones face.
“Why is everything blank?” An unknown voice laden with frustration asks from behind me.
It took energy, thought, sheer will to follow the urge building within me to bend over. Scattered on the bottom were puzzle pieces, completely white. One could assumed this was ground (this bottom) because this was where our feet were planted.
The completely white puzzle pieces only added to our frustration. One by one, we started hanging them. When we got one right, an outline would form.
Area one was complete. It was the outline of a beautiful garden. What we thought was the logical exit, a doorway of flowering vines at the back of our puzzle. A child, maybe 10, went skipping toward the exit. We marveled at her energy. Exhaustion had overtaken us.
A whisper cracked the silence like thunder, “this was the home of the gods?”
Realization hit me, I was holding a puzzle piece. A room would not show us the exit until it was complete. We had completed 3 more rooms. Something was written on this one. To this point none of them had words, ‘grandma’s ceiling’.
Tired, frustrated, ‘grandma ceiling’ meant nothing to me. ‘Grandma ceiling’?
The little girl pleaded, “one more.”
“No,” I answered. “We all need rest.”
“One more.” The persuasion of a child pulled a weary group of adults to work on ‘one more’.
This room was different. Imagine my shock to find the outline of a doorway. Slightly to the left of where I was standing. Still holding the ‘grandma’s ceiling’ random puzzle piece, now the door frame to nowhere?
While in the midst of struggling with the random door frame. The low growl of a bear can be heard before it lumbered; in all its simple graphite glory, toward the frame. No one felt it necessary to be afraid. Curiosity was paramount if not paralyzing.
The bear sniffed the frame for what felt like an eternity. And I became aware, again, of the puzzle piece I was holding, ‘grandma ceiling’.
My attention was pulled back to the bear as it began its ’back scratching dance’. Up and down the frame with sure delight. Side to side expressing groans of relief. Its back needed a good scratching. Up, down, side, to side. The bear did this until it exhausted itself. Sliding down the frame into an instant sleep stuper.
A sudden urge filled me to place my homeless puzzle piece above the sleeping bear. I stepped away as quickly as my tired body would allow me. To my surprise, the piece stayed. The little girl bounced over to the groggy bear, looked up at the puzzle piece and began to read.
There was a story hidden on the piece. As she read, she stepped backwards gracefully sitting next to the now fully asleep bear.
A vine started growing from the far corner of the frame. It grew, wrapping its way around the frame. Leaves formed. Then flowers. It wrapped around the bear. Then, as if to say, ‘job well done’, it delicately grew a single flower lying calmly on the child’s shoulder.
The flowers slowly turned purple. Color, the only color in a totally white and graphite world.
“I think it’s getting better, though I’m not willing to try.” He put his hands on her waist. “How about we pack our lunch and go to the lake and have a picnic?”
She kissed him, “I like that plan.”
“I love you.”
“And I love you.”
At the lake, she spread out their picnic and they ate in silence. This silence was different. It was warm, full of contentment.
“Close your eyes.” She did as he asked. In a different time, if anyone would have asked her to close her eyes, she would have argued with them. Oscar was different. She didn’t feel nervous or weird around him. “You can open them now.” The first thing she noticed was that he was kneeling in front of her. Then she saw the little box in his hand. “Esther, will you marry me?”
“I would like for you to make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“If you ever decide it’s over, you won’t try to kill me.”
He laughed, “I promise.”
She held out her hand and he slid the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. “How did you know what size to buy?”
He winked, “my secret.”
She ran her fingers around his neck as she kissed him. He rested his forehead on hers, “oh dear Lord.” He panted. Was this her version of THAT KISS? Maybe that was it, she wasn’t trying. She just wanted him to know how much she loved him.
“Did I forget to say yes?” She smiled. This time he kissed her with his version of THAT KISS.
He smiled and took her into his arms.
He stayed at her house that night. The next morning she fixed him breakfast and kissed him good day as he went off to work. She spent her day looking for a job. Party time was over. It was time to get back into the real world. She had been paying attention to the paper for awhile but there really wasn’t much to be had in the job market. Fast food work was about all there was. If that is what she had to do, she would do it. But she worked her way through school in food service and wanted that to be a last resort.
Oscar had gotten most of his wish. They had spent most of the month of July at the lake. They both had a light tan.
He had been able to sneak the ring sizer on her finger without her knowledge. Or at least he felt she didn’t know.
He peered out the window and saw her coming across the street. She was almost running. Before she could ring the bell, he opened the door. “Hello beautiful.”
“Hello handsome. I forgot what humidity really feels like. This sucks.”
He just laughed. “It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah, it sucks.”
He closed the door behind her, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair.
“There is something I want to do.” They sat on the couch. “I miss going to church. Let’s find us a church.”
“Okay, do you have one in mind first?”
“No, I figured we’d just pick one and go.”
“Okay. Sounds good,” she smiled.
Each Sunday they tried a different church. On the way home, they talked about the experience, likes and dislikes. With each church it was something different. The first church they went to was a Church of Christ; the service lasted for almost two hours.
Esther hopped in his SUV, “I don’t mind to tell you my butt is numb.” He laughed.
She smiled, “what?”
“Imagine if your tail was as none existent as mine.”
“Your butt is numb too?”
“No, sore. What did you think about the singing?”
“This was my first time going to a Church of Christ. Where was the instrumental music?”
“This branch of the church doesn’t practice singing with music.”
“But isn’t that what the book of Psalms is all about? And there are instruments talked about in Psalms.”
“The woman that I introduced you to.”
“Eliana?”
“Yes, she has told me a lot about what they practice. They don’t preach from the Old Testament. It’s just there.”
“How can you not?”
“They don’t put a lot of emphasis on Christmas either. More on Easter and the resurrection.”
“But if he hadn’t been born then how is his death and resurrection more important?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I liked the sermon. I thought it was strong, well put together. And I liked it that he didn’t read the bible. I can read. Don’t read to me.” She winked, “unless it’s agreed upon.” He blushed. “So what’s on your agenda this week?”
“I have in-service the next three days and school starts back Thursday.”
“I never understood that, why does school start back on a Thursday?”
“To ease the children back into going.”
“Blah, blah, blah.”
When they got home, they changed clothes and he came over to her house for lunch.
“I haven’t heard you say anything in a while, how’s the ulcer?”
Poetry & More 