I was having a bucolic afternoon, as most are these days, lounging on the grass. There were butterflies and birds in the yard. One squirrel on the fence. The spinach seedlings are growing. So are the tomatoes. The cherries are ripening. The poppies have gone from seeds to frilliness and soon to bloom. The salvia is red and gorgeous. I was soaking it all in when out came the hose. I am OBSESSED with the hose. I’m not sure why. I’ve only gotten my feet wet once at the river. I didn’t like the shower I had to have when I returned all stinky. But the HOSE, I must ATTACK, repeatedly, and then again. To say I was preoccupied would be an understatement. I circle and lunge, retreat, regroup, replan, reattack and counterattack. I am determined. I am stealth. I am on a mission. I am not thirsty. I don’t particularly want to get wet. It makes no sense. I just snap into a different character. I mean I become possessed. I have not control. It is as if I am someone else. OMG. That’s it. I have a split personality. Spooky. Really eerie. Kinda chilling. The other me must have a name. What is it? Olliezilla? Dracuollie? Cruollie? How to I get the other me out? Ella watches from a distance, bemused. She’s SOOOO mature. And dry.
I was having a leisurely Sunday afternoon, napping in my bed, as a dog should be doing when Hazel, the Corgi, small for her size, sneaked in and attacked. She had the initial advantage. I was asleep, unaware, groggy. She, lightning fast, quick on her tiny feet, danced on the perimeter of my dog bed some number from Swan Lake. I recognized the moves but was feeling more stone cold than tippy toes from my rude awakening. I got my crocodile teeth gnashing and tried to pin the pipsqueak down, but she was slippery, not literally, but wiggly like a worm in your hand looking for dirt. Feeling lazy, I tried to wrestle her right in my bed, but she rolled me out. A Cinderella smile and dainty features, she is a cheeky kid and a fierce competitor. The nerve. I rolled back into bed. It was back and forth and back and forth, (I need my beauty sleep), round after round after round until Ella called a time out. I was like, “What took you so long?” I was a lazy wrestler today. Wait until next time. Right now it is nap time.
I think Ella won this game, but I’m not exactly sure. We were playing “Simon Says.” My first time. I don’t know who Simon is? And I don’t know why I was supposed to be paying attention to him. If he had called the game, “Simon has a treat for you,” I would definitely have understood what was going on. It involved a lot of stopping and starting and seemed like an exercise in futility. Someone I think it was about sitting and staying and maybe being obedient, but not so fun.
I got my feet wet for the first time tonight. I saw the duck and Ella and I forgot. It wasn’t so bad. Being wet.
We found some other wordly looking trees and grass. Belle hooked a stick much longer than herself.
These bubbles, so many, bounced into the yard today. Billions of bubbles. Okay, that is an exaggeration. Lots of bubbles, floated and tumbled and landed and glistened. Ethereal, celestial, intangible, and transcendent. Almost transparent. Rimmed with a rainbow. Gentle. Gently. Wafting. Up and down. Listening to the breeze. Unaffected by gravity. Frivolity but more than. I was amazed. I felt unsure. They came. They went. The morning doves cooed.