I've weathered so many storms that I swear I should be my own forecast...
..'cloudy, with a chance of 'what-have-you' overnight'. LOL
Hi! Welcome to The Night Shift, where just about anything is up for discussion. It’s a little after 3AM as I start this post.
I’ve got coffee. It turned out better than usual tonight. A small mercy: I am grateful.
There’s a vanilla candle burning on the stove.
Cooper and Chevy, aka, The Tuxie Twosome if you’re new to The Night Shift, are taking turns curling up with me as I'm stretched out across the couch.
Parkour (the little tabby) is napping in the kitten nursery because she simply cannot behave herself tonight! (She pulled down my curtains!)
Max, the Labrador, is supposed to be sleeping in his crate, but..well..Kona, the Great Pyrenees who lives nearby, started barking, which, in turn, started some of the other dogs in the area to barking.and….well..you, my Gentle Readers who’ve been reading The Night Shift for a bit, know what that means..barkapalooza.
sigh
Anyhoo..
The last few days..week..whatever, have been a bit of a trip. Decisions and plans have had to be made, adjusted, tossed out the window, what-have-you. I’m trying to be properly zen about it all, but about the closest I’m getting is ‘Aunt Phyllis Zen’ —if you know /that/ particular kind of Zen, you know.
Let’s get into it.
To open, living where I do at the moment, is maybe best described as a continuous education in living in the land of off brand resealable containers, you know the kind, where the containers and lids are somewhat ‘mix and match’ and don't always perfectly line up. Also deserving of (dis)honorable mention, is the experience of sliding, stoved-up sideways, straight into ‘well, that was never mentioned in the brochure’ - territory that I could never would have imagined would be a thing otherwise.
Moving right along…
We have some very rude and definitely not very afraid of people urban wildlife here. And I do mean ‘wildlife’ in the species-es of generally accepted as wild things, wildlife, and not pain in the arse kids/kidults/adults who, in some very important ways, never really grew up. Although we have those locally, too. You know, for, if not fun, than definitely ahem local flavor.
(As a matter of fact, one of the kidults just drove by the house with his foot full into the gas as he took the turn. One of these days he's going to wind up spinning out onto the lawn and sink his car into the grass because the water table out here is wicked high at the moment, and on that day, Himself is gonna be oh-so-bent-out-of-shape. But, that is, perhaps, a story for another day. Stay tuned.)
Anyhoo.
Would you like to know what the rude urban wildlife did this time? Yeah, I know you do. The bastiges absolutely destroyed an exterior draft dodger that I’ve had on the door for, oh, the better part of forever. Just went to town on the sucker. I was wondering what that noise outside was.. Opened the door to the to investigate, and there's what’s left of the draft dodger, laying tattered on the porch stairs. Ack!! Fortunately, I had a replacement handy, to put on the door pretty darn quick, but still. Rude.
It wasn't until much later, when I had a quiet moment, that I realized that this destroyed draft dodger situation could be a metaphor for something else entirely. Of course, that realization came in as a half formed thought that took it's sweet time, like all metaphors do, to coalesce into something that tried to be deep..or at least useful.
What, pray tell, could observing and cleaning up after a destroyed draft dodger be a metaphor, for, you ask? Easy. It’s a great metaphor for waves hands around in frustration and dismay everything in the world that has fallen apart/been dismantled/has served its purpose/needs and got a replacement/is otherwise done for.
Once I accepted that, it was time to finish my lunch, order some stuff from Amazon that I need to move my life forward, and just get on with the day, imperfect though its start may have been.
For now, this is all.
Talk again soon,
Deb