Beetles and eggs and blues

For 20 days I took an all-cold shower after yoga every morning and today, on Thanksgiving, having the house all to myself, I grunted and snorted and really hammed it up in the shower, finishing things off with a stiff towel.

I clipped my toes on the edge of the wooden trunk in the den. And slugged another cup of coffee in the dark contemplating things, taking stock.

I had to pull over and talk to Charlotte because she was upset with how I handled the cranberry sauce. We had planned for the two of us to make it together, me guiding her, but then it just became a task (I turned it into that) and then I got short with her about the zesting (she had criticized the words I used and said I could have done better) and so basically we got into a fight over it, which was sad. She used her small voice with me as we sat in the car and explained how she felt, and it hurt to hear that. Hurt like it did clipping my bare toes, still cold, on the edge of the wooden trunk.

I took time off from blogging because I wanted to do something more Important and I did for a time, for about as many days as I did yoga and cold showers. I assumed the pose of a writer on the couch. I went back and forth with those mental games. I had a decent chapter but no outline. I just kept going back and forth editing but there seemed no way forward.

I got more work again, thank heavens! I hadn’t worked since the Fourth of July. I read up on public and private MEC because I couldn’t even remember what it stood for. I read it on my phone in the corner.

In fact most Thanksgiving celebrations I bet you will see families doing that, saying they need down-time or whatever, they need a break from all the family time to just zone out on their phones. That makes me kind of sick to think that.

It is all dark still and the cat is glad to have me home. I heard something hit the floor and her scampering about and realized it was the nub of a ginger root I left out to grate over the cranberry sauce. I told Charlotte we’d have a redo. I feel like I’ve been doing that all my life (the redo). These holidays, every day in fact, is like that.

I looked up the lyrics to a Cocteau Twins song, the one Lily played for us earlier in the week. I thought I’d send the lyrics to her and we could talk about it later, maybe read them together. Beetles and eggs and blues and pour a little everything else. You steam a lens stable eyes and glass not get pissed off through my bird lips as good news.

See it doesn’t have to make as much sense as you think it does to be true. Life doesn’t work like that either.

Categories: parenting, writing

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18 replies

  1. Happy Thanksgiving, my friend!


    gregg s johnson
    206 399 3066

    Pardon my brevity; I’m sending from a mobile device.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve closed doors so many thousand times that I really was surprised when my wife came in from out the back and closed the kitchen door, and actually said ‘I learned from you’ (A/C efficiency). I had read your post only moments before coming into the kitchen myself and I did not dare to believe that I had finally taught Z to close that damn door.
    So in an odd way, your post gave me hope (perhaps it’s a Cranberry Charlotte kind of hope).
    As for Thanksgiving, it comes to me via Planes Trains and Automobiles. It seems far more important than Australia Day. We don’t say ‘Happy Australia Day’ here. But here’s to new-starts, re-starts and new, better habits:
    Happy Thanksgiving, my dear friend. All the best to you and your’s.
    Be well and do good.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yes happy thanksgiving dear friend to you too! Hope I can say that (I just did) and grateful for knowing a sliver of you and your life there down under. Damn that door David Don! Damn that door. Dam-it. Be well, enjoy the day!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m listening to the song right now, and I like it even though I don’t get it. That’s magic!

    Happy Thanksgiving, you Pearses, you!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “they need a break from all the family time to just zone out on their phones.” When Susan and I first started dating (in the infancy of the web), I visited her family for Thanksgiving. At some point, I needed a break and went into an empty room to read. Someone said to Susan “I guess Jeff doesn’t like us, huh, if he wants to be alone.” Some people have always needed breaks during family gatherings. Our phone is just the distraction that fits in our pocket.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. Good stuff! And Happy Thanksgiving! I want to hear more about the 20 days of yoga and cold showers. Maybe not so much about the actual showers, if you know what I mean. And about the important project!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Side stepping any commentary on that strange day celebrating invasion, dispossession and some mystical being, we’ll move swiftly on to Cocteau Twins. It’s the voice, isn’t it? Elizabeth F is a mystical being, one I actually do celebrate.

    Talking of lyrics, google “Paul Kelly – How To Make Gravy”. Best Christmas song ever.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh right the invasion and genocide. See I don’t think of that much which says something dunnit? Here I’ve been going around saying it’s the one holiday we have that hasn’t been spoiled by commercialism (Black Friday notwithstanding) but then there’s the whole kind of history aspect. Let’s move on swiftly. It’s the voice! Mystical is true! And I watched the Paul Kelly video, so now I can better visualize Christmas in your parts. Nice tune, not one id think of as “Christmas,” maybe that’s why you like it? Simply…having…a wonderful Christmas time! Ha! There you go, gear up…

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Thanks for the lyric references. I always struggle with what side of a song means more, and which side makes sense. I had just listened to Aldous Harding’s “The Barrel” and her lyrics had me wondering (or wandering), and then you show up….

    Liked by 1 person

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