Lamentation

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Sami was able to patch the tusk.

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There was this blue elephant, see? I wrecked it and I am feeling very, very bad about it.

It was harvested from a curbside trashpile many years ago and spent most of its time in the garage, ignored and buried under our own junk. The top has a deep depression in it so it’s probably a planter. Maybe a base for a glass topped-end table. It came into the living room last year so we could look at it and ponder if it (a) could benefit from a spray paint makeover or (b) should go back to the trash. Believe me, nobody ever wanted to trash it. It has great detail in terms of elephant wrinkles, toenails and tassels that hang from the howdah and the deep aqua glaze that stuck in those details and made it all the more compelling.

Finally its day in the sun came and it was decided that it would go Glossy Ivory and move to Philadelphia where my daughter, the curbside harvester herself, would incorporate it into the decor of the apartment she’s moving into this weekend. This morning I picked it up to test how heavy it was and if I could carry it out to the deck myself or if I had to wait for Sami to do it. It was surprisingly light and manageable. I thought all along that it was concrete but it turns out to be made of plaster. I walked it through the kitchen on the way out to the deck but I misjudged how wide it was as I carried it.

You know, when I was getting near the kitchen table, I thought maybe I should put it down and regroup for the rest of the trip. But I was so pleased with how I was managing and proud that I didn’t need any help to do this so I kept on going. So funny how life changes in a flash because right then is when  I crashed it into the side of a chair as i passed it.

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Severe tusk damage. Sad face sad face sad face. SAD FACE!  I tried gluing it back together and it will probably be okay if I just find that one last piece. Maybe Sami can patch it up. He’s pretty good with holes in drywall maybe he can fill this. He thinks he can.

My daughter took the news very well. “It’s ok. At the end of the day it came from the garbage, right?” she texted back to me. I offered to spray paint the faded garden gnome hoisting a foaming beer mug for her but she declined. She’s really not upset about it but I feel terrible. I was the guardian of the blue elephant and I failed.

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UPDATE! Sami was able to patch the tusk and also an area on the butt that we didn’t see before. Apparently, the plaster body has a slip coat over it and that is where the glaze was applied. That slip coat is no thicker and no stronger than the hard candy shell on an M&M. The elephant’s butt had an irregularly shaped 2″x 2″ section where the glazed shell fell off. Sami patched that too.

I sprayed a light test coat of Krylon Gloss Ivory on one side this morning and at the first pass, it became obvious that the entire shell is crazed. But I’m moving ahead anyway. It is my destiny to prop up imperfect things that are temporary and preserve them and share them as long as I can.  Vintage redwood patio furniture that rots and crumbles, mid-century dinnerware that chips and smashes, even The Painted Deer which seemed indestructible but was felled by a hurricane.

There’s a lesson in all this I guess. Something about how all things are transient, or don’t get too attached to material things. Or maybe just you are a weirdo stop wasting your time. But how can I stop? And why should I? This thing is going to be magnificent. For as long as it lasts.

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RIGHT? Maybe if I use enough spray paint it will strengthen the crazed shell and prolong the life of the elephant. Maybe.

The Topic: Mothers

NOW UPDATED!

MOTHER’S DAY UPDATE:

Brunch: Champagne and caviar.

Lupper: Grilled Salmon burgers

Dessert: Wierdo hippie ice cream

Later: presents galore

My children are the best, all 3 of them.

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The Scene: Mid morning out on the sunny deck. A chill breeze blows.

The Players: A man, a woman, a little dog

Man: How were those cookies I brought you before?

Woman: Good. Plain and tasty. I shared them.

Man: Shared them‽ With who?

Woman: [does not speak but side eyes the dog]

Man: [does not speak but conveys the impression that he is working up a wise crack]

Woman:[defensively]  I’ve got nobody left to mother! I even washed his ass today.

Man: This is when I miss my mother. If she was still here, she would have washed MY ass for ME.

Woman: I still would wash the asses of our kids if they would let me.

Man and Woman: [contemplative silence]

End scene.

How’s 2013 Going for You All So Far?

For me, it’s kind of boring and empty with the constant expectation of disaster breaking through at any moment. Sometimes, when I sit quietly, I get stuck on the things that didn’t work out for me. I’m unhappy about the amount of crap in my house – some of it is mine most of it is his. I’m noticing that I no longer hold people’s (family and friends) attention when I speak. People (work) still want to hear from me but there are some days I don’t feel up to the challenge of what I have to/should do. Where I never would have been seen in public with chipped nail polish before, now I surprise my self by looking down at my hands and wondering how things got to such a state. I could have conducted myself in a more mature manner when I was trying to convince my sister to get a flu shot instead of saying she was a cuckoo and calling her doctor a quack.

Slowly Coming Around

Truth be told, I had to take to my bed for a day after the election. I’m slowly coming back around. America, this America of low initiative, reduced morals, ridicule and condescension is where we live now. Last night I was killing time by watching Two Broke Girls on TV. One of the roommates walked into the bathroom and surprised the other one, who was busy masturbating with the shower head. Much was made of that, and the references to it continues for several minutes. Who do I complain to about this? Is there anyone else who thinks this contributes to the diminishment of society? Or is this a symptoms of the diminishment that has already happened?

The barn door is hanging open, isn’t it?

I turn for inspiration to Dorothy Parker, a wise-cracking hard case who I think would have understood me if we lived at the same time. Sorry for this alteration of your work, Dorothy but the underlying sentiment is the same for both of us.

Canada bores you;

England is damp;

Singapore canes you;

Mexico – uh oh! cramp!

Gaza isn’t lawful;

Austria is gray;

France smells awful;

You might as well stay.

Ache Flake

SUNDAY MORNING UPDATE: I’m feeling much better today. Wow, that jetlag … amirite? Remind me not to blog for 24 hours the next time  I fly back from the coast. Let the record show that I am still pretty, only now it’s more of a sagging, overweight kind of pretty.

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When we took up residence here  so many years ago, among the things that two found in the back yard were an umbrella clothes dryer and a big willow tree. The laughable line dryer was the first thing to go and Sami installed a two lines on reels that ran at a slanted angle from the back of the house to the big tree. I had a talent for arranging the goods in type, color and size order. I hung everything out and it was beautiful, satisfying to every one of my senses.

I took a shower today and knew as soon as I picked up a stiff, scratchy towel I knew that that someone had washed it and slung it over the deck rail to dry. I rubbed it against my face for a long time and until it got damp and soft, I remembered how strong and energetic I was then.

They keep talking about what they saw when they  were transferring old video tapes to CDs this week. “You were so pretty!” So excited to discover this lost history, this thing about me long gone. They don’t even hear what they’re saying about the me now.

The tree fell down and the children are adults and I’m always tired.