Your beautiful and generous messages on the last post went straight to my heart. I can't help myself: writing is what I do. So I welcome the second decade (how strange does that sound?) of blogging. Bring it on interwebs, bring it on!
Sunday morning and the nine o'clock church bells are muffled in the fog that drips from every branch. They do not wake me, as we've been up since six, awakened by the sounds of a large vehicle outside the house, along with clanking, and loud voices. It was as black as midnight and I assumed it just was our fireman neighbor getting a lift home on a hook and ladder. When the noise didn't stop, I was loathe to get out of bed but just when I put my feet on the cold floor, the doorbell rang, turning the noise from an annoyance into an alarm.
Oh lordie, I thought, maybe someone hit our car - and then in a flash, I remembered. "Peapod! It's Peapod!" On Friday night, I had tried to place a grocery delivery for today but the only slot left was from 6 to 8 - in the morning. We are usually up by 7 with the dogs and the last time I ordered, they didn't show up until after 8:00 anyway, so I reserved the slot without
Now that I'm thinking of it, though, that last order was the Sunday before Christmas. This weekend, it appears, they are not only on time but early as the clock says 5:56 when the doorbell rings. Mr. Pom and I run around the room like cartoon figures, grabbing at pants and shoes in the dark while I mindlessly call out, "Peapod! Peapod!" to assure him we weren't being robbed.
He ran down the stairs without any discussion as to who would open the door. (Men can pull off just out of bed deshabille much better than women due to short hair, fleece pajama pants, and t-shirts. I on the other hand, have Einstein-style hair, no bra, and no intention of going downstairs. He is such a good man.)
After they left, accusations flew around to the likes of never do this again, how could you forget, and for god's sake can we ever sleep in? Sigh. It did not help the matter when I confessed that on Friday night I had ordered just the minimum amount to reserve the delivery slot, with full intention to go back online Saturday to round out the order. Saturday came and went with a quick coffee trip to the city, and intense artmarking all afternoon, capped off by a sudden onset of a stomach virus that had me in bed at seven. So not only were we dragged out of bed in the dark, we still had a trip to the grocery store ahead to round out the week's needs. (On the bright side, it took us only a few minutes to put the groceries away.)
And such is life. Even when blissfully asleep, life intrudes. Sometimes we handle these intrusions with aplomb, and sometimes we do it half-arsed. Sometimes we show up, like Mr. Pom, with 2 differently colored shoes on. But we still have to answer the door.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What a wonderful word. My word for 2013.
a·plomb[uh-plom, uh-pluhm] Show IPA
1820–30; < French à plomb according to the plummet, i.e., straight up and down, vertical position
1. composure, equanimity, imperturbability.
1. confusion, discomposure; doubt, uncertainty.