Thursday, June 08, 2006

Ramble, ramble, sleep

I live in an urban jungle. Racoons scamper around under my car, staring at me like they can't wait to use their opposable thumbs to choke the shit out of me if I dare think about driving anywhere. They live under my car when it rains, which is handy since I tend to stay in when it does. Snails have invaded my recycling bags, which wasn't a big deal until they (the bags, not the snails) got tagged for having glass inside and I had to dump them out in the driveway and pick through socially conscious trash to find the offending babyfood jars. Four in total. Every morning I am greeted by a spider the size of a golf ball in my bathtub. I capture it and set it free outside, only to meet it's furry gaze again the next morning. This morning there was some big, giant, red and brown, spider-beetle-IslandofMorrow-type thing in there and I'm sorry to say, I couldn't handle it so I drowned it. My first act of intentional violence in about nine years. Everyone in this building has cats who seem to find more comfort in my backseat or in my living room than in their own overstuffed beds. That is, of course, unless they are chasing ferrets, which have also somehow invaded the neighbourhood. I hear there are ants upstairs. Can't wait to meet them.

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A travelling evangelist knocked on my door this afternoon eight minutes after I put my son to bed for a nap. She was soaking wet, dripping from every surface, black strappy sandals, no coat. God held my tongue as she offered me an invitation to a religious conference, raising her voice just a little so I could hear her over the sound of Kaeden crying. "Thanks," I said, respecting her sense of obligation instead of innocently suggesting she go look under my car.

***

I feel safe with my head covered, so I'm wearing a toque with my jammies right now, which is what I do when I'm sad or grouchy, which is how I feel when my normally docile and friendly eight-month-old cries himself to sleep for a week straight, which makes me feel helpless, which makes me more grouchy, which makes me want to blog to feel better, which is an act made purely in the spirit of retaining my utopic bubble.

***

I bought apricots today for the first time ever. This is kind of funny because "apricot" has been the secret password between my sister and I for over twenty years, but I've never actually eaten one before. I wonder if she has? I finally found plums and peaches too, which bring delight to my day, so much so that I'm writing about it when really, it has no significance whatsoever to anyone but me. (That was painful.)

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If anyone is interested, by "other" blog is at www.myspace.com/xziat but be prepared: I reserve it for purely meaningless meandering and save the important stuff for this one. So don't expect anything genius, as if you do already.

peace~

2 comments:

Seera said...

Don't be grouchy. If Kaeden didn't cry himself to sleep then he wouldn't be going through the normal stages of being a baby. The memories of your nights will bring him comfort in the future. That you stayed by him until the tears turned into little huffs of breathe and then that into calm sleep. As terribly cheesy as that sounds, it's true.

xziat said...

Good point. I know you're right; it's just so ... well, you know what it's like. Thanks, Pumkpin.
peace~