I'm hoping that you are feeling like you are wrapped in delicate fleece and that you are already listening for Harold's Angels. I'm not sure, but I thought I heard them this morning, way far off.
Since I had a serendipitous "Sabbath" by surprise, I have been incommunicado and cloaked in an elvish cape or kinda like a Stealth Grandma from about mid-afternoon through this morning at 5:30am.
And it's the first time since my Mom passed that I have opened my eyes from sleep, could either breathe (asthma comes on the wings of the reaction to mold) or not be in pain -- and slept more than 1-- 3 hours or so in a row since 1:11am on 12/11/12 when my Mom's Spirit flew away from that room in the nursing home. (With the angels from the clouds of Glory singing.
I beg to differ with His Holiness. Maybe it's like he has been too long in the bubbled, sound proofed Pope-mobile too long. I honor and respect him, but maybe it' like that time in the cold, darl dead of winter in (maybe) late Feb, 1985 when Rowdy was the guy who was supposed to contact me when the Wing got recalled for an exercise at oh-dark-thirty, AKA 0030, AKA 2:30am for you civilian types but the phone was in the kitchen and the landlord would NOT let me put any holes in the wall so Rowdy either didn't call (he could be mean to me like that) or I didn't hear it, (I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt) . . . But anyway, I got to work at the usual time, 0730 (7:30am/9:30PM Zulu time) . . . And almost EVERYbody on Base, on land, in the seas and in the air had been there since 0300/3am/0000 or 0100Z). And talk about "on the ceilling! Wow. My boss, Rocky (NOT Rocket J. Squirrel was on the ceiling. And I just looked blandly back at him when he asked, almost screaming, but trying not to, "WHERE IN THE H-E- double HOCKEY STICKS HAVE YOU BEEN?"
"Please calm down, Sir. When the balloon REALLY goes up (all out thermo-nuclear war or whatever leads to it) . . . Well . . . Not everyone is going to get the message right away."
Rocky calmed down a bit and just said I had better get over to HQ PDQ or else I would be SOL.
I'll send you the "Glossary of Terms" sometime soon.
The first and most wonderful "Superman" movie just came on -- AMC HD.
If you are worried about this zoomie stream of consciousness kind of thing, just pick up a copy of James Joyce's "Ulysses," or read Faukner's "The Sound and the Fury," or "Look Homeward, Angel" by Thomas (I am mixed up whether it's Wolfe or Stryon or who, sorry) . . . Or get a copy of "Rain Man" from The Red Box or on Netflix, etc. And read or watch . . .
When I was in an Honors English Class as a freshman at The University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana (where 9 Nobel Prize winners were teaching, where celluoid film and touch screen computer screens were developed, where the third largest library in the world after the Library of Congress, etc, is, and you could walk from The Student Union toward the other end and find Iranian exiles yelling and screaming about the Shah, where there were statues all over where Abraham Lincoln had spoken, and where you could see kids with t-shirts that said, "Harvard -- The University of Illinois of the East Coast) (And, honestly, I didn't mean to offend ANYone, but when you understand that you go to school where they felt they needed to build the new Undergraduate Library two stories down into the ground with a courtyard in the middle so that there would not be a building that cast a shadow on the Oldest Experimental Cornfield in the world, you have to realize that you don't need to travel "Through the Looking Glass for things to get quite surreal)
It was in the fall of 70, a few months after the students had finally had it after Kent State and everything and had occupied the University President's office AND the Armory) (among other places, so don't ever think for a moment that Baby Boomers don't know how to occupy places -- see the movie, "The Big Chill," esp when Tom Berenger's character says something like, "I couldn't believe that people of our age and our background would be acting like people from another generation, from the ESTABLISHMENT.")
(And Mary Kay Place's character, who is a lawyer who used to be a public defender but now works for a law firm like "LA LAW" or "Boston Legal," answers him saying something like, "Welcome to my world.)
("Superman just got too violent . . . I hadda turn it off. I have a "one-woman show" called "The Gospel According to Saint Baby-Boomer.". Schedule it for Sunday Schools, receptions, grammar school, high school, college events, Bar and Bat Mitzvah's after the part when the bride and groom are sitting in chairs held high above everyone's head -- see "Fiddler on the Roof" or the Chagall painting from "Notting Hill" -- a print of which hung in are living room when we were growing up . . . )
Okay, okay!
(Back to here and now -- Marietta Ga, 12:25pm EDST, 21 Dec 2012)
By mistake I left my cell phone at Krista's around 3:30pm yesterday, Dec 19, 2012, when she took me over to a hotel 1/2 between Marietta and ATL. It had been raining and the leaf mold and mushrooms were blooming and glowing (or growing, or whatever it is) better than any edelweiss patch in all of the Alps or whenever. When it gets like that, the only way NOT to feel like I have just had 17 cups of coffee and am hanging from a chandelier (JUST like the absolute WORST hangover you've ever had . . .) Hmhmhmm ( . . . scroll back and find that YouTube link from Katharine Hepburn, Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant in "The Philadelphia Story," when the character that plays Katharine's little sister goes over to pick up their Uncle Willy in the basket of a pony cart and he says to SOMEBody, (something like), "This is the kind of day that the pages of history teaches us is best spent in bed!"
It's been like that.
Heading to the jacuzzi.
See ya later, alligator!
Ciao, bellissima!
Kathleen Ware Harris © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com
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