This weekend was one of those rare weekends when the universe collides in a perfect way so that all your plans disappear (which normally would disappoint me and typically do) and you end up with a perfectly lazy weekend. A weekend when you can become at a master at the art of doing nothing.
At first the weekend started with me giving myself conversational drops shots, asking myself philosophical questions, until I fell asleep in teh hammock. Then I woke up and at that time I decided it was time to stop asking questions and just roll with it. Just let myself fall asleep in the sun, let myslef be amused by the dogs rolling in the yard. Let myself get wrapped up in Gilbert’s adventure in Italy. Let myself be. I am now in my head singing the Beatles song.
I thought of so many things. Things that have happened through the week. Things that have yet to happen. I thought of all the things that I was waiting to write about. I thought about coming in and writing. I felt inspired. Instead I fell asleep again in the sun. My nose is showing the lack of sunshine and the plethora of sleep. I did, however, finally decide to pull back out the journal. The following insued in my journal between fifteen minute cat naps:
It has been a good 4 years since I have picked this bad boy up…I am not going to recap the drama that has unfolded but today this is what is happening.
I am sitting lying on the deck reading Eat, Pray, Love, back at “home” with no boyfriend(for the first time in ages, thankfully), no mind blowing questions for the ages, just me and the Louisiana humidity and heat causing me to melt upon these pages. It is one of those gorgeous days I would feel guilty being inside. So in the sun, with a liter of water I lie frying and melting on he deck. Part of me wants to flip back in this journal and read, but that would be pointless. It is composed of primarily one name. All his pictures. Pictures of us happy and smiling or at least faking it. Oh how things change.
I smell awful…I think that should be known right now. Also my iPod speakers either died in the heat or ran out of battery. Both very likely possibilities. So now semi silence of the pond fountain, the birds, and the dogs investigating in the bushes and under the deck. Mags pops up here and there panting and looking at me as if to say, “You think you’re hot? Try being covered in fur and dragging around a tail with a mind of its own. You are choosing to be out here, melting, panting, I am just a dog that you drug out here with you.”
I got up to check my music situation as I am possessed with this flaw–I must paint the silence. Silence scares me. It actually terrifies me. However, good ole iPod is out of juice. Mags has selflessly offered to bark at the neighbors with no sign of surrender
The barking is subsiding, minimally. I have to giggle–Mags has found a place beneath a tree when the sun doesn’t spill upon her. Yet the grass is tall and she is short so the only time you see her head is when she pops up to bark…and now silence again. Now I will nap.
When I have nothing to write about, I write that. Wishing you a lifetime of paper rainbows and smooth peanut butter…W