Wednesday, July 24, 2013

It's Raining, It's Pouring


     A tidal wave of liquid enveloped all aspects of my life.

Water "gushed" from an opening around the chimney and had been for years, according to a dear friend who happens to be a roofer.  

     Note to self:  Always have friends with a strong skill set.

Plaster walls apparently have an ability to become a Tupperware container. This means the ceiling hid a stagnant pond above our heads as we, the hapless homeowners slept in peaceful ignorance.  The only clue all was not well in Barbie's Castle, was an errant rash that appeared and disappeared from the fair damsels neck.  It was blamed on poor Pi's fur, wheat, carrots, GMO's and a bad bottle of wine.  

     Thank God it wasn't the wine.

Trodding up to bed after a long day, I became aware at step ten the air smelled stale, at step fifteen it was closer to my Grandma's attic and by the time I stood at the foot of the bed my nose hairs threatened to pull up the draw bridge.  In seconds the rash bloomed brightly and I ran for my life.  
     For two weeks we "slept" on mattresses on the living room floor while the roof was inspected, insulation was sucked from the attic, vents were replaced and added only to find that in addition to the waterfall our windows were lined with rotting tree debris and moisture left over from storms a century ago.
     Presciently a client had come for a massage sometime in the Spring.

     "My back hurts."

She reached somewhere between her shoulder blades.

     "Why is that?"

     "I took our storm windows apart and cleaned the windows, including the screens."

     "Why would you do that?"

     "It looks great when I'm done."

Looking at her I thought of the 1001 things I'd rather do than that particular chore.  At 1001, I found another 42 billion and figured she must be bored.
     Several months later standing in front of our decaying windows with a bucket, a brush, Oxy Clean and chemicals I won't mention for fear of going to toxin jail, I cried piteously. There are reasons for the drudgery aside from sparkling glass panes.
     While the top of the house moldered the basement acquired two rivers, one from an over full gutter pointedly spilling into a window well, the second trickling from the furnace fan.  The saturated air overwhelmed the de-humidifier which broke down.  Moisture drip, drip, dripped and Maggie our grumpy Yorkie, decided to splash in by developing an incurable, to this date bladder infection.  Pi, now cleared as an allergy contagion joyously showered her wee puddles with markings of his own.

     Holy fucking shit, what is up with all the water?

The Voice, no longer shocked or amused by my tactless questions did not answer.  So I asked Bill for his input.

     "Why do you think we are drowning in our own house?"

     "I don't know but if you figure it out let me know. Because this sucks."

     "Maybe it has something to do with being fluid with change?"

     "Does fluid mean I have to have a smile on my face?"

If it was necessary we were in for a long watery summer, because he looked as pissed as Pi.

     "Acceptance doesn't mean happy."

     "Good. For the record, I'm far from happy."

We drank another bottle of wine to at least dull the roar of the tsunami until crystal clarity arrived.  A week later the Shaman Trail offered an answer. This is the new name for the bike path, since most of the excursions are wildly improbable.

     My ass bones hurt.

You'd think a large bum would cushion a bike seat well.  

     You'd be wrong.

Hoisting myself up to manage the bumps over a bridge I contemplated the water rushing beneath.  The muddy sides surely were littered with turtles.

     Turtles, turtles, where did I last see turtles?

     "Pay attention, there is something to learn."

     Oh so you finally showed up with some info?

     Then give an assist and remind me where I recently saw turtles.

A dream from the night before clipped into place.  I had been gathering turtles on a muddy riverbank.  On this blog I've written about other turtle experiences and in recent months I often pondered the long term relationship.  Perhaps today I'd discover the answers.

     "What do you know about turtles?"

     They are able to live on land and water.

     "Yes."

     Why do I need to know this?

     "For the ability to be grounded while swimming."

     "To transition from one place, one idea, to another."

     Like being the stone skipping on a pond?

     "You have come from a place of waves to a land of Earth, you are liquid and bone, life is fluid and structural, it is the balance of one and the other."

     My ass bones are killing me.

     "Rise above them and fly."
          

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