Rain totals 0.28" from last night, ground soaked deep. Evidence of germination, lentils and beans and sunflowers, they all look alike at this stage. Ontology recapitulates phylogeny†.
Mud in it's season
Soft for the cotyledons
Hidden underground.
We took to bed early, nothing else to do and so much time to do it in. Dylan has a book. Eleanor stretched out on Dylan's right leg. Zeppo jumps up, steps over Eleanor, presses his face into my nose, I start a belly rub as he drifts up onto Dylan's left leg. One big lump of cuddle.
I slept oddly. Dreams that I didn't register as dreaming until I woke up enough to think about it. No, I wasn't actually checking someone's mail surreptitiously, but legally, leaving no trace, but confiscating one package in a strange apartment with a mailbox in the wall beside the door.
Woke from one, got up, checked the weather, Zeppo singing for food. Fed him at 0345. Crawled back in bed, Dylan got up briefly, put on an audiobook, we settled back down. Eleanor had not moved from the middle of the bed. Zeppo jumped back up, stood on Dylan's shoulder, then flopped down between our faces, pressed his nose to mine a few times, and purred and purred. His purr is loud, truck engine with extra gravel.
Heard a guy roaring outside, Dylan went to check. He was struggling with his plastic bagged groceries, but seemed to be moving on. A moment later, the same screams. I'm in my pjs and robe, crocks (this is what I do for slippers), so I hesitated, but watched him in front of the neighbor's house struggling to carry his groceries. Fuck it. I grabbed a Trader Joe's bag, and ran out saying "Do you want a bag?"
He was wordless with frustration, but not angry, his hands out in despair. He took the bag, and I did my professional soothing voice.
"This will hold all that. It's ok, you're going to be ok. Take it easy, breathe."
I glanced behind me, and our local blind* guy with cane and rolling bag was walking toward us. Impeded sidewalk for someone with a cane. Frustrated Guy still flooded, so I talked to blind guy. "There's a man who's dropped his groceries here, take it slow."
Went back inside, no more wails of distress.
† It doesn't actually. But my biology teacher in high school had us learn the phrase to show off.
* I've spoken to him a few times, he knows my voice.
6 comments:
An angel of mercy and kindness, appearing almost from nowhere, soothing the world: the world of two unfortunates; one in desperate chaos, the other approaching danger in his darkness.
You set such good examples for the rest of us to follow. Thanks for that, Zhoen. We so need need your kind of help.
PS: Lovely haiku for spring.
Crow,
Just trying to be a decent human being. I have so little else to do at the moment. I'm trained for the hotline, but not scheduled at my home facility. Waiting.
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Nurses are good humans.
Cat,
Nurses know their jobs. I wouldn't say they are all good humans, nope. I've known a lot, as you'd expect. We're a mixed bag. Vast majority do take their jobs very seriously, though.
A few I would cross the street to avoid, and wouldn't let put a band-aid on me. Those are thankfully, a small minority.
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