The Deep of the Night

Awake, yet again, in the deep of the night,
I listen to the breeze sigh through the forest leaves,
Sounding like the gentle caress of waves on the shore.
My ever present companion, Kodi,
Lays watchful at the end of the deck,
As I turn to go sit in my porch swing.

A loud snort breaks the silence of the Mountain,
Echoing all around us,
And Kodi is instantly alert and by my side.
A gentle woof escapes his throat.
“We don’t bark at the deer,” I remind him,
But they snort so seldom,
He has forgotten the sound.

We move as one,
My hand resting on his broad back,
To the screened porch,
And I hear the hesitant footfalls of our visitor.
In silence, I illuminate the big doe with my flashlight,
And Kodi and I watch her, together.

She is uncommonly pale,
The color of the deer we call Brazen,
But too skittish to be her.
Perhaps her daughter or sister, I muse.
I see the lines of the old Matriarch,
The biggest doe I’d ever seen,
In this one – the sheer size, large ears.
As she moves off, slowly,
I see she is limping slightly,
As she was a few days ago,
When last I saw her.

Is that why she is alone?
I ask Kodi, who looks at me quizzically,
And sits, faithfully, beside me,
In the dark, quiet, night.
I am never alone.


This Routine

This Routine is all too familiar.
Afternoon sun hits my shaded eyes
Like a boxer hitting his opponent.
It hurts.
I see it coming.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Dog claws click on floor,
Spoon taps bowl,
My muscles twitch.
I hear its approach.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Waves of nausea
Crash over me.
I feel it swamp me.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Say, “I’m sorry,
“I’m going to the bad place.”
And close my door.
She knows this so well.

This Routine is all too familiar.
My day is done.
Now it is
Migraine’s day.
Out of my hands.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Swallow meds,
Zofran under my tongue.
Bowl beside my head.
Try to soften the blow.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Tummy Mint tea cools,
Spearmint oil soothes,
Stones ground me.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Curl up, stay still.
Close eyes.
Breathe deep.
Ignore the explosive pain.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Listen to the pounding
Pulse in my ears,
The neverending whine.
Soundtrack of my life.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Door opens softly,
Muscles twitch anyway.
“Is there anything you need?”
Not now, maybe later.

This Routine is all too familiar.
The neighbors’ dogs bicker,
Birds’ evening calls,
So loud I recoil.
Silence is needed.

This Routine is all too familiar.
Breathe deep and slow.
Controlled descent.
Where shall I go?
Far away from here.

This Routine is all too familiar.

Funny Blender Mishaps, Past and Present

A little change of pace from the seriousness of recent posts…

A Long Time Ago…
Let’s see, must have been about 31 years ago, I was in the midst of a teenage melt-down, and went from being the-child-terrified-of-doing-anything-wrong to a smoking, drinking, partying crazy person. My parents were newly divorced, and my mom & I had moved from my childhood home to a brand new townhouse.

My mother, unsuspecting of the depths of my wildness, made the mistake of leaving me home alone for a few days. While I didn’t have a “Risky Business” style affair, I did have a couple friends over, and we decided to make some frozen grape juice & vodka drinks we’d heard about. While I was only 16 or 17, alcohol was far too easily obtainable.

The recipie was simple: 1 can frozen concentrated grape juice, 1 can full of vodka, and blend & add ice & blend some more for a frozen delight, kind of like a slurpee with a kick.

Things started out smoothly, but the blender jammed on some ice cubes. Like an idiot, I put a spoon in & stirred the concoction, thinking I was only putting it down a little way.

Except I was distracted by the music & laughter.

And I hadn’t turned the blender off.

The inevitable insued. The spoon got caught in the blades, and quite literally exploded the blender. The container shattered, and frozen grape slush was instantly splattered everywhere.

Not only was it all over me, it was also on the cabinets, the walls, counter, floor. You name it, and it was dotted with deep purple.

Panic overcame me. Grape juice stains are some damn hard stains to get out!

We sprang into action, furiously mopping up the mess, trying to erase the evidence.

Floor & counter & cabinet were no problem.

The white wall over the counter was a big problem, as was an orange & white potholder hanging on the wall that a friend had given my mom that said “Over 40 & Feeling Foxy.”

With a little careful bleaching, the potholder came clean.

The wall was another story. The flat white paint had clear purple splotches even after much spraying & scrubbing.

Luckily for me, the builders had left the leftover paint in the basement. Yes, we painted the entire wall between the counter & the cabinets.

Somehow, it worked. I told my mother I’d been making slurpees and that’s how the blender got broken. I was into my 30’s before I told her the whole story.

Which brings us to today’s misadventure…
After only 4 hours of sleep, I had to get up to deal with the installation of our new heat pump. Exhausted. PEM. Talking to Rhiannon. Worrying about Kodi biting someone.

And making my medical shake.

I’ve made literally hundreds of frozen smoothies since my teenage mishap, with nary a problem. But today I lost focus.

The blender didn’t break, thankfully. But with a deafening pop, the thick stainless steel knife I was using to stir the concoction of juices, frozen raspberries, coconut milk, ice, and powders, snapped when it hit the blades.

As I looked in befuddlement at the knife handle left in my hand, my face dripping with frozen shake, the rest of the blade was still in the blender, until it shot out, further splattering cabinets, counters, floor & me with even more shake.

This time, there was a lot of laughter as Rhiannon helped me mop it all up. And we don’t need to re-paint the kitchen.

Lesson learned.