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This Day in My History

A Simple Faith
  I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy
 No Easy Answers
2003:  Little Things
2004:  Sunflowers and Pears 



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Who will make sure she does it right if I don't keep my eye on her every minute?


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10 April 2005

If you've ever thought it would be fun to lounge about on chaise loungers eating peeled grapes and bon bons, worshipped by all those around you, think again.

It's hell, I tell ya.

I've never confessed before that I am a goddess, but I guess it's time to come clean.  I am a goddess.

Of course my followers are few in number.  Only two to be exact (if you don't count Walt).  Kimba and Sheila are convinced that I can do no wrong and that their sole purpose in life is to follow me around everywhere just in case they miss something.

Sheila will happily sleep upstairs if I'm sitting in one place, but if I so much as move a toe, she's downstairs, eager to please.  (I should add parenthetically, that all "goddess" bets are off once we get outside.)

For Kimba, being slave to a goddess is hard work.  Kimba goes along in her daily life doing her own thing, seemingly oblivious to everything, but when I move, she moves.

If I'm sitting in the family room, she's in her dog bed next to the recliner.  If I move to my office, she gets up and settles herself in the little cave under my desk.  If I load dishes, she's there licking food off the dishwasher door.  You'd never know that she was even aware of my presence except that she is never more than a few steps from my ankles.

I had followers-in-training with Demetrius and Hamlet, who not only stayed near me at all times, they actually stayed on me most times, permanently attached to my feet wherever I walked.

But now I'm back to only two followers. 

The family room project has been a particularly tricky one.

When Ned and Walt were moving things into the family room, Kimba had to be right there in the middle of everything, because I was there in the middle of everything.  She was always in danger of either being stepped on of tripping one or the other of the furniture movers.

Then came time to wash the walls.  What an exercise in....something or other.  Kimba was nicely settled under my desk.  Sheila was nicely settled upstairs on the bed.

But I moved.

I had the audacity to get up from my desk and walk into the kitchen.  Kimba was there in an instant and I heard "thud" from upstairs the the sound of Sheila's feet running downstairs.

I filled a bucket with a washing solution, got a cloth and began washing the wall.  Kimba went to her bed, next to where I was washing.  Sheila sat there and watched me.

I had just given blood and so I was surprised that I would get tired quickly after some vigorous scrubbing, so I'd scrub for awhile and then go to the kitchen to wash the TCA off of my hands.  Sheila was there instantly.  Kimba would get up and run after her. 

Then I'd go to my office and transcribe a few notes (since I was trying to do concurrent washing and transcribing, since both were due this weekend). 

[aside:   trying to type on a computer with the wrinkled fingers that come from washing walls is not the easiest thing in the world!]

Kimba settled under my desk and Sheila, convinced that I was in no danger from outside forces, went back upstairs and back to sleep on the bed again.

When it was time to go back to the wall, we repeated the whole procedure.

It's nice to be worshipped but sometimes having loving followers can get to be a drag.  You want to tell them "just SETTLE somewhere," but then they look at you and you know that you are their goddess, and goddesses must be gentle with their worshippers.

Now if only they'd learn how to peel grapes, we'd be in business.

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I've been taking pictures of "squared circles" for Flickr

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