Monday, March 9, 2009

Yawn

Yawn.  Why is it called ‘Spring Forward’ when the time changes in March?  Nobody I know is springing anywhere.  With one hour less of sleep, ‘Lie prone like a dead thing’ might better describe my bodies reaction to the present temporal anomaly. 


I guess it didn’t help that I got up at 3:30 am this morning.  The last time I did that was to see the Beatles in 1962. Oh yeah, and that time on an Italian choir tour when they got us up to get on the bus for Pompeii -- which turned out to be pretty much just a bunch of piled up petrified dead people redeemed somewhat by some fabulous gelato in a cafe later.  


So, what would get me up so early this time? The thing is my better half flew out to DC this morning and I wanted to get a glimpse of him in his spiffy business suit.  As they say in the vernacular, it was totally worth it.  


Now the cat and I are watching the sun come up.  At the moment there is Maxfield Parrish blue sky behind the poplar trees out front and only the demented scotty dog, Ginger, who lives next door is stirring.  He lives to chase imaginary chipmunks.  Apparently one has been running up and down the fence-line for the last half hour or so.  Homer, my cat looks up at and mind thinks to me, “What IS his problem.  I mind think back, to him, “I don’t know -- he’s a DOG for gods sake. 


My coffee foam this morning scares me.  It is the eye of Horus being attacked by a snake.  Found this on the web: http://www.aloha.net/~hawmtn/horus.htm


So, the eye represents how all sensory input is *Food*.  Touch, taste, sight, smell hearing, thought -- OK that part’s good.  My coffee warms my hands, tastes divine, looks great, smells wonderful and while I’m glad it is not talking to me yet I would not be thinking all this if instead of being human I was a small vegetable or the fuzz under the refrigerator.


The snake thing is the part that worries me.  It’s just too early in the morning for Freud.  I’m not going to touch it with a ten foot pole. Not even one with a hook to transfer it to a nice safe garbage can with a sturdy lid.  Nope.


The sky is now a robin’s egg blue and wispy mist bits are lingering around the pine trees at the horizon.  The cat has gone out on morning patrol.  Ginger the dog has either caught the chipmunk or maybe the cat is sitting on him.  My coffee is almost gone as is the feel, taste, sight and smell of it. The snake has dissolved into a harmless brown circle at the bottom of the cup. Perhaps all scary Freudian objects can be banished by the eye of Horus?  That works for me.



© Robin Wendell 2009


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