Inner Doodles

 The swampy pit is now a veritable lake. The Earth's crust breached, giant rocks adorn the edges of the water. The only sign of life is the neon yellow vests operating CAT and surveying the work with poised grunt. Not a snapper to be seen. A golden mess of straw lines the muddy edge. I had almost forgotten what that lighting could look like what with our onslaught of gloomy days. The neon vests are almost done covering up their mess. My entertainment will come to an end. I suppose there is always the news... If I want a more dismal source of occupation. Would you rather be a snapping turtle with your mucky home unstuck? Or would you rather be governed by the squalid few who ignore their people gone amok?

I come downstairs to an overpowering and musty scent. "What is that smell?" I ask the boys who are having breakfast already. It is not as pungent as the chameleon's uric acid-filled feces, nor does it seem like the small mammal house at the zoo, which is what I usually think the litter box resembles. It's not earthy and offensive like the crickets. Admittedly, we have too many animals in our humble house, but this smell was not one of them. Nor did it quite seem like burned breakfast or anything else human-made. "Do you guys not smell that?" The boys continue to ignore my question. Mom noses are always combing the air for things that are uninteresting to boys. Oliver grooms himself on a pillow. The smell is strong near him. I check him for renegade poo. There is some sort of tannish gray matter sprayed all over the couch cushion. It looks like rotten baby food. "Yeuch," I inspect it without getting too close. Then I see the source. Oliver...

Dreams are getting stranger and stranger. The stress of social distancing, global deaths, and lack of jobs intertwines in bizarre ways. We are fine, but as an empath, I tend to let it all in to bleed out through my subconscious. ~ I was back at the school and we were slammed. Phone call after phone call to find the children who couldn't make it back to class. Were they at work with their mothers or at home without a ride? Did they have lunch? Did they need new clothing and is there enough in our bin to supply to those in need? I looked at my schedule and there was no way I would make it in time to my reading group. I was still manning the cafeteria. Putting out fires between stressed out coworkers and upset children whose oranges were moldy and who were being overcharged by kitchen staff.* I walked briskly up the winding staircase and found myself in a living room. It was poorly lit, bright blue carpet and there were piles of books and knickknacks in all corners of the house...

(A by-the-way-this-also-happened-in-Week-9-but-was-unrelated-to-Gradschool-Black-Hole side note) Our feline companion's ear has gotten worse. We had to find a facility that would take him and allow us to remain in the car. The drive-through veterinarian was not an experience I ever thought I'd have in this life time. Chief Mate and I took the expedition together. He had not left the neighborhood in ... (blank thought bubble) ... let's just say, quite some time. I was beginning to think he may not remember what it feels like to sit in a car. Getting Oliver in the carrier was not easy. After three failed attempts to shove the beast through the tiny door (how did Oliver get so big??) and Chief Mate laughing hysterically, I tried putting treats in the back of the crate. But it was too little too late and Oliver was far from dumb. He made sure to give me a side-eye and silent meow in protest of my feeble effort. We had to take the crate apart and rebuild it around him. ...

As I sit in front of the fan trying in vain to dry the beads of humidity pooling in my pores, let me recount the events of the past week. Some are most pleasant, others, excruciating, and all kept me from the daily log. Let us begin with the Mother's Day that was, but then wasn't as it was supposed to be. The plan was to have breakfast twice.  Round One: eggs, made by Co-Captain Dad because I would inevitably sleep in and starve the crew if they were forced to wait.  I knew there was a good chance that I would miss first breakfast all together, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Sleeping in is divine.  Round Two: buttermilk pancakes from scratch with maple sausage, made by Me after I stirred from my slumber.  But this round would not come to pass on Mother's Day...  Day 56 (Mother's Day) I yawned and stretched and a cute little bouncing face appeared in my periphery.  "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom," Everything was still fuzzy a...

All Things Beautiful Chalk on the sidewalk Frogs on doors Mushrooms peeking out A vacuumed floor Words between neighbors Lack of cat poo A hug from your child Moss covered shoes (please post something that is beautiful to you on this blog post!) END TRANSMISSION

Admiral Grandma is taking us to the zoo. Me and Chief Mate and Commander Cousin. The windows are open and there isn't much traffic. It feels amazing to have the breeze on my skin. The sky is orangey, like a soothing sherbet sunset. It has been ages since we have gone out anywhere. I have a strange feeling, like we aren't supposed to leave the house. I ignore my gut and snake my hand around in the wind. The parking garage is ominous. Always is. But it's the cleanest I've ever seen. A fresh coat of cool gray paint makes the floor smooth and inviting. I keep an eye out for lurking bizarros in the corner. My mom taught me to always keep my senses alive in a parking garage. We arrive at the hotel lobby and there are all of the other Admiral Grandparents standing around waiting. They have refreshments. The hotel bellhop arrives and I suddenly remember why we aren't supposed to be going anywhere. He starts to cough. We need to leave. "I think we ought to go back ho...

The walls are suffocating once again. Irritation wears itself on my skin, in my hair follicles, in my aching heels. Why are my heels aching? Every need of every being around me feels grating. There's not enough food in the cat bowl. There aren't enough eyes on how I eat my cereal. But this guy can do this really neat trick. Why can't you put the kind of cat food I like in the bowl? Watch how these guys spin when you put them together like this! There's a dish on the table, are you done with it? I have a meeting in 5 minutes, so I can't help you log in, do you think you can do it on your own? Yes. No. I can't log in because you're logged in, Mom. 4 minutes until my meeting. My hair is a mess. I can see the bottom of my kibble bowl and it's a disgrace. Do I care if they see me disheveled? Everyone's hair is a mess. Mom, I can't log in. 2 minutes. Of course I care. Why is my hair frizzier when I'm at home? Or is it just that I have access to a m...

Between the onslaught of assignments and Zoom meetings that littered my calendar, I spent much of the day staring out the window. I noticed a woman had found a secluded spot in the woods. She sat on a raised manhole cover where trees met the gravel path above our glorious drainage swamp. It was both romantic and desperate. I found myself wondering what she was trying to escape or if she was just enjoying the scene. I watched as smoke meandered up from her fingers. She lifted the cigarette to her lips. Maybe she was a closet smoker. I decided I'd keep her identity a secret just in case. I never was a smoker, but she reminded me of a younger version of myself. I often sought out solitary spots to think and absorb and just be. I always found myself needing to escape one thing or another. Stress, people, life. It has been years since went for a solitary walk or sit. I haven't had a reason to escape. I haven't had the time. Does one need a reason to enjoy a favorite spot? Certai...

Walking up and down the aisles of a barren grocery store, I feel disconnected. From what, I can’t quite remember. I push the cart down one row, up the next. They all look the same. The Easter bunnies stare at me. Their adorable eyes mock and tease. Goofy teeth are garish in the fluorescent lighting. I want to squeeze them and bring them home. But I know better. I see dozens of untouched packages of dye for eggs that don’t exist. Seasonal items seem like bric-a-brac these days. Suddenly the aisle begins to shrink. The lighting dims and the grocery store is now a hardware store. Shelves of nails and the pungent and unnatural smell of fertilized soil in a bag. Lo and behold what do I see? A single roll of toilet paper staring at me. It is neatly wrapped in paper. The kind you begrudgingly put on the dispenser while using the restaurant bathroom because no one else will. Suddenly a second roll has appeared on the shelf. I tear up and gently place the two in my cart as if they might disap...

Conversations with Oliver. O: Meh. Captain Mom: Yes? O: Meeeeh. (paw protrudes at my face) CM: You have food. O: Mew. CM: It’s right there. (points to full bowl and food that has avalanched all over the floor) O: Meeooorwr. CM: ... O: (poke, poke) CM: How do your retractable claws not retract? (inspects dot of blood on arm, squeezes it to release bacteria - is that a thing? does that actually work?) O: Merower, mrrrrroooooow, meoooooowh. CM: (carries cat like a baby and places at the food dish) O: (sniffs overflowing bowl, looks up, eyes huge) CM: sigh. (places a solitary treat on the mound) O: (greedily inhales food while purrs erupt between crunches. food spills over the side, a byproduct of gluttony.) CM: (returns to book and thinks about the solitary treat and wasted food. there is symbolism there somewhere) O: (loudly licks his chops and then ever so daintily licks his paws). CM: sigh. O: (tummy rumbles) CM: No, no, no! O: (a guttural) chweth CM: (flies off t...