I stole this post title from the Wanda Jackson song, Fujiyama Mama. This post has nothing to do with the song but still fits.
Friday evening, we were watching a live feed of the volcano in Iceland. Randy is nearly blind without his glasses and my eyesight is failing rapidly. Either way, we were seeing the video completely different from each other
I mean, if I were to describe how gorgeous it is outside right now, I’d use every cliche in the book. My description would be flowery and overwrought, like a Hallmark card or the poetry I wrote when I was 19.
We have a gorgeous Japanese willow in front of our house. The flowers are just now blooming.
I can tell because my nose has been running like a faucet for days. Once the two gigantic pine trees in the back yard start releasing their tree splooge, our deck will look like it’s covered in cornmeal and my allergy medicine is going to be put to the test.
That willow tree, you guys, we should really remove it. The trunk is only about a foot from the house and the branches press up against the window and get in the gutters. But it’s so pretty. And now? On this perfect day?
Told you it would be all Hallmark-y. Except for the Simpson’s part.
Yesterday wasn’t as gorgeous. It was overcast and chilly. But I still had the most amazing afternoon, thanks to two little neighbor girls that I had never met before.
Which isn’t surprising. Randy and I are ‘keep to ourselves’ kind of people. We make amazing neighbors.
I stepped outside in the late afternoon after working for hours in my home office/slash bedroom on a troubling issue. Two little girls, wearing masks and carrying boxes, stopped on the sidewalk in front of my house.
Little girl number one: Excuse me? But would you like to buy a seashell or a rock?
Me: Thank you, sweetie, but no.
Remember when you tried to sell dandelions you picked and carried around in an upside-down open umbrella? What were you asking? A penny? And you sold zero. Which makes sense, because they were dandelions. But still, it would have been nice to sell one or two.
Me: You know what? Hold on a minute. Why don’t you pick me out a pretty seashell and I’ll be right back.
Randy and I both have junk drawers at the top of our bedroom dresser. His drawer has hair ties, bottle caps, and various medicine bottles. Mine has perfume, bracelets, note cards, and whatever money I find lying around the house. I had three singles in my drawer and took them out to the girls.
Little girl number two: We are donating 25% of our proceeds to the animal shelter.
Me: That is awesome! Do you have pets?
Little girl one: I have a cat and a dog and she has a million cats.
Little girl two: We have a dog and four cats.
Me: I’m so glad you are helping the animal shelter and thank you for picking out such a pretty seashell for me. Now, since you have masks on and I don’t, please back up and I’ll put the money on the bottom step. Then, you can get the money and leave my seashell. And thank you for wearing masks. I’m glad you want us all to be safe.
Little girl two: Ma’am, you don’t have to give us three dollars, we’re selling the seashells for a quarter.
Me: I think this is a three dollar shell. And I want to help the animal shelter, too. You both are wonderful and I hope you sell all of your seashells and rocks.
I felt hope. They wore masks because it is the responsible thing to do. They were friendly and polite. They wanted to take care of the animals. How could I not feel a surge of hope for the future?
I know it was just a tiny little moment at the end of so many awful moments, but it felt like a balm. The weather wasn’t as nice as today, but it was still a beautiful, Hallmark kind of day.
I needed this.
I am counting days until I go back to the office. I alternate between feeling anxious and abject terror when I consider my return. But it’s going to get here. It is.
I’m trying, you guys, I am trying to appreciate every day and I am trying to convince myself that I have not fundamentally changed over the past year and I will be successfully cube dwelling in no time.
And I know I’ll be fine. I’ve been fine up until now. I’ll kick this in the ass.
I hope you all are well and that you have a seashell moment of your own. I mean, it doesn’t have to be an actual seashell or anything. Just a nice moment.
Peace and light.
So, I said before that I hurt my back a few weekends ago.
I had a follow up visit with my doctor. Like, in his office.
All my other visits with him for the last year have been video visits. It was weird, but I didn’t hate it. I had to wear a bra though. That sucked. I mean, I guess I didn’t have to, but we all know what we get when decorum flies out the window.
Anyway, it was a good visit.
I got to see my x-rays, which is cool. I like reading my x-rays. I’m good at it.
For instance, one time I got my MRI results on a CD. I immediately could tell why my shoulder hurt so bad.
There was a definite outline of a duck. I think it explains a lot, but not as much as the x-ray I saw last week.
My doctor was in full on hazmat gear and a face shield. I double masked. I felt pretty safe. I stood behind him and looked over his shoulder.
Doc: Well, it is an x-ray of your head and neck.
Me:…
Me: I am aware. I mean there’s a little skull, right there on my jawbone. At the joint.
Doc:…
Me: See? The eyes and the nose. Then the jaw looks like it unhinged and stretched out. Terrifying really.
Doc: I do see it. You ate your twin.
Me: I’m glad. That thing is terrifying. Best to have the twin whose jaw doesn’t unhinge.
Doc: You don’t know. Maybe she would have been nice.
Me: It explains why I get headaches.
Doc: There’s a lot of arthritis at disk C7 at the bottom of your neck. I think this is contributing to your back pain.
Me: I blame my twin.
So, I have to do a bunch of heat therapy and stretching.
On the plus side, Randy got his first shot last week and I get my first one on Friday.
I can’t wait. but it’s kind of fucking with me. Like that part in a movie where the character finally gets what they want and BAM, they get hit by a bus.
Okay, maybe not a part in a movie. I know of no such movie scene. But you know what I mean.
I hope you all are staying safe.
There’s a glimmer of hope.
Look both ways before you cross the street, okay?