Yeh, yeh, today I come to you, not in the role of Profound Thinker and Pronouncer of Truths but as the meshugina schlepper that I really am most of the time. (Actually, I never come to you as those other things, but sometimes words pour out of me that surprise even me and all my other selves............if you wanted to be nasty you could add another few labels to my list......schizoid multiple personality kook....but then, aren't we all)
I never intended to blog today, but I found myself hearing words coming out of my mouth from the moment I arose from my bed and it occurred to me that one of the pitfalls of living alone is that one does tend to talk to one's self. Nothing wrong with that, mind you......except that the next perception that I had was that I was not really talking to myself at all......I was talking to everything from the cats to inanimate objects. I am not sure which is crazier (nor could I care less) but it tickled the hell out of me and made me laugh when I said to Mr. Squirrel.......who came out of the tree to eat his breakfast of sunflower seeds and peanuts thinking I was on my way back to the house, whereas, in reality, I was lurking behind a bush watching him devour seeds like he had never had a square meal and might never have one again. When I poked my head out a bit to see him better, he froze and contemplated flight, and I shouted in exasperation, "What's the matter with you, you damned fool, MFing squirrel.......don't you recognize me......I am Lo, Official Bringer of Goodies fercrissake." He said nothing but looked at me oddly like he was hoping I would not have a seizure or something before he finished, and that is when I had to burst out laughing.
A few minutes prior to this I had overheard myself chatting at a hummingbird. For weeks I have been messing around with the little feeders that I use which the birds love but which pain me because they have no perches. I know that hummers use huge amounts of energy with that faster-than-sound flapping which enables them to hover and feed, but I have seen some feeders that have perches which clever hummers use to sit and dine at rest, thereby conserving the energy of their meal for better things. As I have said a gazillion or more times, I hate waste so I have been creating little perches out of wire and attaching them to one feeder to see if I can get one of the adorable little bastards to sit down and slurp like a mench. So far to no avail. But, this morning I readjusted the angle of the perch and watched hopefully and damned if I didn't see one of my guys stop flapping his wings and sit sipping leisurely. Be still my beating heart! I heard myself muttering first, "Thank you, God" and then, "Oh, thank you, you clever befeathered creature......you have made my life complete." He (or she) said nothing and did not even look at me oddly. Just wiped his bill on the nearest twig, probably burped politely and nonchalantly flew away. He or she already knew it was not necessary to thank me.
Earlier still, I overheard myself make a deal with the step stool. I have practically given up climbing up on ladders and step stools because of my main motto, "Don't Fall Down!". Today, the light over my kitchen sink burned out and with my poor vision I cannot promise my fingers any safety without that light. Sigh. Wednesdays Florence is off so I weighed the choices and heard myself say, "If I were you, Lois, I wouldn't do that." (oh, yes, I give myself advice all the time). However, I decide to ignore my own good advice and try getting up into the light bulb closet on my own, but first I had to hammer out a bargain with the step stool which has been hinting that it needs it's nuts and bolts tightened.
"Just keep all your lovely parts together for one more climb and I promise you I will tighten you up or have Michael, when he next appears, tighten every bolt and nut and make you feel strong and proud. " I begged. And I felt tacit agreement from the stool before I made the successful ascent and descent. 'Tenks Gott." Yes, I said it out loud.
There is no use my relating my earlier conversations with the cats.....they are too banal to be worthy of repeating and beside, they are different in that the cats do answer me....in fact, sometimes they start the conversation and I just reply to humor them and shut them up.
So now,the cats are out lounging around the swimming pool, Mr. Squirrel is probably having an afternoon nap and the hummers are coming and going, probably without using the perch, but, what the hell.....I done my best. The next words that come out of my mouth will probably be a few epithets I hurl at the computer which does not talk back......it just crashes when it is least convenient and smirks quietly.
I think I must go now, be quiet for a bit and put cold cloths on my forehead........I'll be OK in a little while, honest.
P.S. While I am resting I will be formulating in my mind the conversation I intend to have with Ms. Possum when she come to the Goody table tonite. In addition to kitty kibble and leftover canned cat food, I usually put out a dish with grapes and a plate with crumbled fig newtons for the possums and raccoons. Yesterday Florence came home with grapes with seeds....they were all out of the seedless variety......so I put them out thinking possums don't know that myth about "if you swallow seeds a tree will grow in your belly". I have disproved that myth by chompfing up the seeds and even swallowing them whole. Ha! Today when I went out on the porch to take in all the empty plates and bowls I saw that Possum had gobbled the grapes and neatly spit out the seeds on my porch. Just you wait, Ms Possum...........
The New Yorker covers: July 7 & 13, 2008
9 hours ago