It was a wacky Wednesday all the way around. Logged on to
work at 8:15 and by 8:45 there were more WTFs and For Fox Sakes flying around
than possibly ever in the long and colorful history of my potty mouth. Remember
Midas and how everything touched turned to gold? Well, substitute poop and you
will get an idea of what my frequent bouts of Reverse Midas Touch feel like.
The day featured a little problem solving, a little
learning, and a little putting out of fires. There was the usual deluge of
emails. And in between it all, there were brilliant bursts of crystal clear focus
that let me finish drafts of website content and customer messaging and deliver
them to others for review.
There were even comical moments. Around noon, as I stood
on the tiny porch at the top of the back stairs waiting for Moose to finish his
business, a bird flew overhead. I saw the hint of a shadow, and felt a plop.
The bird had let a load of poop fly, which somehow landed in the middle of my shirt at about mid stomach. How does this even happen? The precision of that angle! I stood there, looking at the white poop on my black shirt and laughed like a fool. Excuse me, do you have any white poop-on? Why
yes I do, it’s right here on my shirt. Sometimes the Universe likes to remind
me that some days are just spotted with crap. But it washed off, nobody
was hurt, and my demented sense of humor had a laugh.
 |
| Find the plum in the produce. |
The produce box arrived, and today’s FedEx delivery person at least had the sense to leave it in a patch of shade next to the front stairs instead of baking on the asphalt in the sun like the last two produce deliveries. It contained delicious and tiny grape tomatoes that inspired salad for supper. I had also checked off “plums” on the order customization, which implied more than one, but the box contained just one teeny tiny plum that makes the Roma tomatoes look extra large. The Universe is having a grand time with me today.
After work, I tuned into a Jacob’s Pillow premier viewing
of “The Men Who Danced” about Ted Shawn’s men’s dance group. It is a
beautifully done video and of special interest to me because for several years of my youth (but not as many as I wish), I studied Denishawn, the style of dance created by Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn
which is the early roots of American modern dance and of which Martha Graham, Doris Humphrey, and Louise Brooks were students. The video made me nostalgic for the dance studio and my teacher, Marion
Rice, who studied at the Braggiotti-Denishawn School in Boston and taught us so many years later. I’m sad that I can’t meet up with the group of dancers from
the studio for their weekly dance meetup outdoors one morning a week because of
the whole time/space challenge and work. It’s 2020. Where is my clone who can
do my work for me while I go dance? Where is my teleport machine so I can get to
places and back in a flash?
To better see the video, I closed the blinds hung in the window
behind me to stop the glare on the computer screen. An hour later when I re-opened
them, two of the strings let loose and they hung in the window, all pathetically
cockeyed and broken. I tried to refasten the strings but the plastic mechanism
that secures them in the head rail was broken on two of the three strings and after
a few minutes, it hardly seemed worth the effort. It was another “how does this
even happen?” moment, but less comical than the bird poop incident. Of course, I may regret having given up on the blinds tomorrow when I’m
trying to work and the glare bouncing off the computer screen is a blinding issue. Friday
is take Moose to the vet on my vacation day, (because if it isn’t the dentist,
it’s the vet and that’s how we roll here at the BungaLowell), so maybe I can arrange for a curbside pickup of a vinyl blind
while I’m already out. I guess we’ll see what the Universe has to say about that.
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