headless

Not an ancient site in Rome. Just a garden-variety mishap. Quite literally. The back garden in fact. Poor little plaster(?) lady who'd been hanging out on our garden table long enough to gather mossy bits... When it happened, I almost cried!

But wait - I can sort of explain that. Really. A few days before this incident, a little rose quartz heart I had been carrying around in my pocket for luck (quite obsessively), fell on my toe when I forgot to take it out before taking off my jeans. Ouch!

The next day, I knocked the bottle of rose water my mother gave me when Squirt was born (yeah. I know. But never mind that now) off the ledge where it - granted, precariously - had stood ever since I'd come home from hospital.

And then, this happened. Decapitation no less...

I saw signs. And they weren't good. I caught myself, standing puzzled, wondering what it all meant. Feeling I was surely headed for some great disaster...

But before you start to worry about my sanity - here it comes: the anti-climax. The soppy bit - the wisdom in the center of the bowl of oatmeal. I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath. And I decided that - if it meant anything at all, it would be that I should stop looking for signs in the weird little accidents happening around me - to stuff. Stuff I was holding onto, holding dear, for no other reason than the idea that it all meant something. I decided then and there, that I should trust myself much more than the stuff I've been holding on to.

Paradoxically, I wouldn't be me if I didn't think that is exactly what these signs meant ;)

So I took the dear lady & her head, and glued them back together. They're inseparable for now - for as long as the weather lets the glue hold. Just hanging out on the table again.

I've made a mental note, though: if this chick loses her head again, it's more to do with the quality of the glue than with any sort of misery looming. Not sure similar guarantees apply to this here chick losing sense of perspective again - that happens on & off... I'm getting over myself though; one garden-variety mishap at the time!

Anyone else out there, putting too much stock in signs? I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable facing up to it all here - I only wrote this post so you know you're not alone ;)

quite

This might make no sense, but you know...

There are days I so hate having to be the responsible adult that I'm really not! There is a very defiant little girl inside of me. At times I'm surprised no one can actually hear her scream - or see her standing there, fingers firmly in her ears, singing lalaLALALAAAA! Which probably is a good thing.

All a propos of nothing in particular - not right now, anyhow. Playing around with cookies - as a petulant child must - this was what came out. Mysterious minds & their meanderings...

Just wondering; am I the only one who feels so completely out of depth in the 'grown-up world' at times?

verb

From the morning pages I wrote today:

"A lesson reinforced: you can't just expect Happy & Fun to miraculously make a run-of-the-mill day perfect. It happens, of course, more than occasionally, but when you specifically want Special - it might need some encouragement, some planning.
Like 'Future' needs planning. It won't magically appear on your doorstep all pretty & tied up with ribbons and pearls. Rather, it will happen right outside your window (under your nose). While you're cutting the dead flowers out of your geraniums, wondering when the sun will come out. Or something. The metaphor might not help, but I get my drift. Basically - happy is, at times, a verb."

submarine

the faucet & the blonde

Have you ever wondered - if you'd sit on the drain in the shower, would that turn the bathroom into a swimming pool?
It does. If you don't have much of a threshold and you sit there long enough, you can actually turn the whole second floor into a pool! Great for getting dust out of those hard-to-reach corners!
It would have been amazing to see the indoor waterfall I could have created, but I inadvertently got up, shortly before that would have happened.
I'm leaving that to other courageous explorers... Let me know if it works?

P.S. for privacy reasons, the faucet photographed is not the tap involved in the actual incident. As for the blonde? Well, yeah - that's her.

Oh, and edit: the duck is an innocent bystander. It has no idea what the fuss is about ;)