Drugs are nice

Astute reader Kristy asked if I jot down the family’s conversations on little pieces of paper located all over the house.  How did you know?! 

My memory is shot, which is great because it means that I can reread a book and still be surprised at the ending.  But it also means that five minutes after a conversation I can’t remember a word.

On a Tuesday morning in late November, this happened.

I was already awake. Husband was still sleeping. Then his clock radio alarm plays gentle classical music.  The lights are still off.

Husband (not quite awake): How come fdmsfp bsmlafp FIVE fdusmfpd wlxpd kplds SIX dwepwl zmxkskd qplpz FIVE, dpswldlf pfslsds FIVE.

Me (fully awake):  Other than the word FIVE, I did not understand what you said.

Husband (a little more awake):  If only we could manipulate time.  Then we could go to sleep and wake up only after we are fully rested.

Me: But you would have to manipulate time while sleeping.

Husband:  Couldn’t I do it after I wake up?  I don’t want to work while I’m sleeping. …  Did Younger Daughter get up?
(This is when I reach for a scrap of paper and a pen, to write down the conversation.  In the dark.) 
  

Me:    Yes, she did.  I woke briefly when she left the house at 6:30.  Thank God I was able to sleep last night.  With the help of drugs.

(Benadryl is my sleep aid, people.  Nothing stronger.)

Husband: Drugs are nice. What the world needs is more drugs.

                                                                                    * * * * * *

And that’s the thought that I want this blog to enter the new year with.  Some of us may need more drugs in order to make it through 2017.  And hopefully we’ll have a pen that works.  Because we are going to need to pay attention and take notes.  And drugs.

Non-working pen + dark room =
senseless chicken scratch.
Appropriately, this paper is
the back of a prescription receipt.

Icicles We Have Known and Loved

Left ice, left ice,

Right ice, right.

Icicles in the morning,

Icicles at night.

How many, many icicles in sight.

Victorian witch-hand icicle scene.

The same icicle, taken with the flash.
Now you can see all the cute baby icicles.

Icicles to right of them,

Icicles to left of them,

Icicles in front of them

Volley'd and thunder'd...

This icicle was attached to a huge sheet of ice pasted to the
 front of the house.  Yesterday the whole thing crashed to the
ground and made a spectacular noise. No one was injured.
That's because people have given up going outside.

This poor bush. 

All the icicles have melted and are gone, but before they departed, they caused a scene inside our basement.  If I can ever get out of this Land of Winter Doldrums And Laziness I am stuck in, I will tell you about it. Until then, you can imagine an icicle party, with drinking and loud noises.  That would be appropriate, because it's Purim!

A Mighty Army in the Night

Thus says the Lord: You shall arise and go to a faraway place, to attend a memorial service, and you shall lodge in the hotel chosen by your husband’s brother. 

And lo, even on that selfsame day I shall cause a great horde of teenaged girls to descend upon that same hotel.  I shall set you in the midst of them; verily, even shall you be staying on the same floor of the hotel as this mighty army of girls. 

And it shall come to pass, in the black and dark hours of the night, that they shall run up and down the hallway making a noise very like Pharaoh’s chariots and horses rushing into battle.  At all hours of the watch they shall talk and cackle and make all manner of noise, like a grievous swarm of flies. They shall repeatedly open and close doors, and across the hall from your room they shall stand at the door and knock, saying in a shrill voice, “Where is Benita?  She has my key!”

Then shall you arise from your bed, cry out in the night, and phone the hotel front desk, pouring out your heart like water.  And lo, for a short time all will be quiet.   Do not rest easy, though, for does not nature teach you that teenage girls without a chaperone must make noise, a noise even as the sound of war?  And lo, it shall come to pass, in less than twenty minutes time, that the noise shall be as before.

Be not hasty in your spirit to be angry: you shall for a time lie in your bed.  And you shall, in your mind, alphabetically go through hymns, singing the first verse of these praises to the Lord:

            Amazing Grace

            Be Thou My Vision

            Crown Him with Many Crowns

Draw Us In the Spirit’s Tether

            Every Time I Feel the Spirit

            Fairest Lord Jesus

And lo, you shall reach the letter “M” and be sore vexed that it is 2 a.m. and the young maidens are still awake, shouting as if in battle, slamming doors, making a joyful noise.

You shall arise once more, in your lavender paisley pajamas with hair askew. And you shall suddenly open your door, and shall confront the teenage girls who stand frozen in place in the hotel hallway, holding hair dryers and makeup.  And you shall say to them with the voice of the fierce lion, “You girls have got to quiet down!”  And they shall reply in unison, each while pointing to another, “It’s her fault.”

Then shall the Lord say unto you: Forsake your wrath.  Be joyful that these girls are not malicious.  Upon seeing you in your lavender paisley pajamas they did not mock you; neither did they threaten you or take up violence against you.  Be glad that they are not breaking the furniture or setting things on fire.  With thanksgiving in your heart, think of your own child, who is not riotous or unruly, and remember in the light of morning to tell that child that she had better not behave like these girls when she is on the marching band trip, or else.   

And there was evening and there was morning, only one night, but a really long one.  In the morning light, you shall descend to the first floor for breakfast. And there in the breaking of the bread you shall meet your husband’s brother.  And you shall recount to him the tale of your woeful night.  And he shall say to you, “What noise?  There was no noise on the fourth floor.”

                                                                                    - The Book of Peregrinations 5:1-57

Teenage Girls (but not the ones in this passage)
 - capable of making a
great deal of noise at night

Things that happen in the night

You would think the world is asleep at 4 a.m., but it is bustling with activity.  This morning, the Common Household Son and I were up at that hour.  I took him (and the neighbor) to the high school, whence they left for their annual band trip.  The band directors claim the bands will be in a competition, but they are really just going to hang out at the beach. 

At 4:15, before we left for the high school, I checked our flowers.  My husband planted some bulbs yesterday, expertly timing the planting to get them in before the evening thunderstorm.  

Crocuses, by the mailbox (near the street)

Tulips, planted near the house

This includes a self-portrait of the Common Household Mom.

I have not planted tulips for years, because the last time I did, they were eaten overnight.  Astute readers will note that these tulips are just to the left of the spot where my hydrangea stick (of blessed memory) was put in the ground last year.  

At 4:15 this morning, the tulips were still there.   There is no sign of any hydrangea, but I remain hopeful.

Flower check at 4:15 a.m.  Still intact.

On the way to the high school, we saw a conglomeration of bright but small lights, about 6 feet off the ground, bobbing up and down along the road.  Invasion by aliens?  No – closer scrutiny revealed it to be the running team, out for practice.  They were wearing headlamps such as one might wear for caving.  I revised my idea about suggesting to Youngest Daughter that she try track and field.  She would be happy to go running in the dark at, say 1 a.m., but I think 4 a.m. gets into her grumpy time.  By 7 a.m. it’s full-fledged grumpiness for her.

The high school was a beehive.  Many parents go on these band trips as chaperones, and they have my utmost respect and thanks for doing a job that I could never do.  I was grateful to be able to go back home and crawl in bed.

When I finally got up for breakfast, my husband said, “Did you see what happened to our flowers last night?  They've been eaten.” 

I doubted.  I told him how I had proof that the tulips were still there. “Maybe some of the flower petals fell off because the rain pelted them.”

He said, “Well, we might as well have had a sign in the garden that said ‘The Cafeteria is Open’ because somebody ate the flowers.  You go out and look for yourself.”

I did, and this is what I saw. 

"Delectable Desserts for Furry Night Critters"
Only one left!

The tulips are still intact, but the crocuses, which we planted by the mailbox, were last night’s dessert.  It might have been Bambi, but we suspect this guy: 

  

R.I.P., pretty crocuses.