10 April 2011
Tales of a Phoenix: The Annapolis Days
The day began, as many of my days do with someone being baffled.
I was walking the dog- a Bichon Stupide-and ran into a neighbor on the court. Like most avid birdwatchers, Lee looks like either a heron or James Thrurber, depending on your frame of reference.
(I have noticed that many lady birdwatchers resemble deepchested pouter pigeeons, or contented starlings, but that's another blog.)
Lee stopped me. "I'm so sorry to hear about your Dad", he said, kindly and thinly.
"Thanks so much", I said sincerely.
"I only know your Mom," he said. "We meet in the woods every evening."
He seemed unaware of the implications.
"Sirrah!" I said. "I would have you know that it is my mater of whom you refer to! I demand satisfaction!"
"Huh?" he asked, not unreasnably.
"I and my seconds will meet you at dawn in Clearwater Park, where this matter may be resolved to our satisfaction."
"Seconds?" said Lee. I noticed his glasses were fogging with bewilderment.
"Alright, thirds, then. I can't afford seconds. But until then- huzzah!"
"Huzzah?" He was wellmeaningly at sea.
"I'm jes' joshin', Lee." I said.
"Oh. Okay. You have a real nice day now, you hear?" he said, and pulled away his black cockapoo much to the relief of both of them.
I'm not sure i fit in in the suburbs.
Later that day, I changed into my Shopping Outfit. Mom needs to be tenderly fed three times a day, as she recovers from viral pneumonia and Loss; and my foray into a Safeway the size of a citystate needed to be dressed for. In order to buy the ingredients necessary for a light, refreshing dinner, I changed into a secondhand Chanel denim supermini; leggings; combat boots; and a 1940's Lanz handknit sweater with little Austrian people on it, bowing to each other in what i choose to assume was an apology fo what they'd done to the Jews. Perfect for shopping for spinach! Hooray.
On my way out the door,ran into a hitherto unmet neighbor, a Simon Pegg Briish lookalike (for Simon, that is) and flirted with him shamelessly. We compared the relatve merits of European Soccer teams, tho he looked a little gobsmacked when I went into my rant about Barcelona choosing "tall" over ""can actually play". But he was cute, and flirting alays gives a spring to one's step.
The day proggressed quietly, as days caring for an invalid tend to: doctors frown on the introduction of unnecessary excitement, so I had to cancel the male strippers and the bocci Ball tournament. I did get many smiled for my outfit, and some out and out laughter, but genius will always have to withstand the scoffing of those who wear sweatsuits voluntarily in public.
After a lovely dinner, Mom and I retired to the back garden, her with her Pinot Noir, me with myt Gauloises, and watched the dusk colored cat hunt insincerely amongst daffodils. Mom and I recited sonnets, and told stories about Dad, and wept happily. I opened my laptop and concluded the evening by reading aloud Mary Oliver's beautiful poem "John Chapman."
Mom has gone to bed. I will stay awake, watchful,checking in several times a night to make sure she's breathing. She was bossy today: a Taurus, that's a sure sign of recovery. But one can never be too careful of the wellbeing of those we love.
Tomorrow: another outfit, another set of meals, more poetry and I go to the local gym to see if they ned a yoga teacher. Onward: upward;sideways and through.
I miss my friends in the city. I hope they don't forget me. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, for heaven and the future's sakes, as Robert Frost once put it.
Love the ones you love, and above all? be kind.