Author Archives: debaucherysoup
Waking and winking and windows with locust
I found the locust. Well, they’ve still been out and about, but not in the vast numbers they were not too long ago. I think most of them gather on my porch at night. I forget to keep my porch light off. I digress.
I pulled up to the laundromat and spotted them.
Okay, so there’s only 4 or 5 on the window, but they’re everywhere in the parking lot.
I was allowed to sleep in until 5:30 am this morning. Butters was either a) feeling generous or b) tuckered herself out with her Shar Pei/Shepherd shenanigans. I’m leaning towards b. Although, there’s a strong argument for a choice ‘c’ … That I was too tired to notice any earlier attempts at arousal. Is that the right word? Okay, that’s funny. I’m leaving it in and not even going to google. OCD be damned.
Bottom line is I ‘arose’ and decided I’d be at the laundromat as soon as they opened. Then hop from here to the grocery store. THEN … I’m cleaning the house in ‘ten-second-tidy’ fashion and hitting the couch.
I even decided in the car on the way over that I was going to try out ‘sassy’ today. Thought I might even wink at a fellow laundromat patron if one made eye contact. Male, female – didn’t matter. It would be one of those friendly ‘hey there – alright?’ winks.
I’m not very good at winking. If I try with my right eye, the entire right side of my face scrunches up and I end up impersonating Popeye.
I can pull off a left eye wink, but I can’t support it with the casual confidence to make it look like anything more than a twitch.
Those realizations, coupled with the fact that my table was taken, sucked all the wink mood right out of me.
I’m at the kiddy table under that damned rainbow umberella again. Add insult to injury, the lady that works here walked by and mentioned I need a new laundry basket. Hmph!
They sell them, and if I’m interested I should let her know.
Good grief.
Morning Manatees, Royal magic and cheesecake
Good Morning to you, good morning to you.
We’re all in our places
With sunshiny faces,
and this is the way
to start a new day!
I beg to differ. My face feels like a handful of sand was tossed at it by a drunken Sandman. He did get some granules in my eyes – that must be why they’re sore and grainy.
OR … or … it could be that my dog pulled her ‘there shall be no alarms, who wants to be alarmed? C’mon, I’ll gently rouse you from sleep by creeping around the bed, then staring at you” routine again.
It IS Saturday right? Yes. And yet, at 5am, I was up. Stomping to the front door being led by my manatee with hair.
I’m getting pretty redundant writing about Butters.
I’m thinking of changing my blog name to ‘Musings-from-the-laundromat-about-Butters’ That would pretty much encompass my posts.
So, I am in fact up.
It is what it is. She is what she is. The morning has broken and since I’m too tired to start cleaning it up, I’ll share some exciting news.
It’s not my news. Or is it? If I’m sharing the news – is it technically … oh, never mind.
SO!
I have a brother in the UK. He works at Warner Bros. Well … (she says, like an eager, sparkly eyed gossip) … guess who he got to meet yesterday?
AND … (she leans in closer for effect)
He was the one that got to hand Prince Harry his wand! (If I am to believe my brother-in-law’s post on his wall, which I do.)
Haven’t seen anything on my brothers wall about it yet, but he’s been too busy hob nobbing with Royalty I suppose. I’ll be grilling him soon about all the details. The horse’s mouth will be parched by the time he’s done answering all my questions. Wait, he’ll be typing. Horses hoof?
Pretty cool if you ask me.
I had 2 pieces of cheesecake yesterday. That was pretty much the hi-light of my day.
I had been coveting the cheesecake through a glass door.
There was a meeting going on that was none of my business, but the dessert caught my eye.
It’s who you know people, it’s who you know.
That meeting broke and I had already sent my ‘don’t think I didn’t notice that cheesecake in there’ email to someone who’s business the meeting was.
Dessert tangent. Sorry. Hey – ‘Dessert Tangent’. That would be a great name for a little shop.
Back to my sibling story.
He’s talented too – made Nic and I these wand replicas before he worked there. (Oooo! Foreshadowing!!!!)
Perhaps I can wave one at Butters while saying: Expecto Patronum! That should clear the area of Butters the Demented. Or does that just work on Dementors? Hmmm ….
OR, I could just stick one up her nostril until she gets the hint.
I’ll give it some more thought when my brain wakes up.
*update … Story confirmed and got some other tid bits I can’t share … Also had to remove my brothers name due to strict social media rules. Warner Bros. has a privacy thing with their staff. But let me just play Perez Hilton for a moment and say … One person who was there has an epic imagination ;)*
Wonder
Just breathe ….
Let go
I push away
fear dissolves
Release …
me
standing there,
smiling
legs firmly planted
mind searching for purchase.
lost
in thought
vacant smile
my eyes
I see
can’t understand
whirls – words – worlds
apart
and I breathe
let go
and walk away
Sleep deprived Buttery post
I could have sworn it was Saturday this morning. It really ought to have been. Nic was off for ‘April break’. What IS that? And why is it only one day?
Anyway – I slept like a baby last night. Woke up every 2 hours upset with something or another. Not quite screaming.
Drama + Butters + Sinus Tachycardia + son chatting on his ipad = no Z’s.
(I mean, he was seriously chatting – full on – carrying his conversation buddy around the house. In a moment of delirium, I actually thought a girl was in the bloody kitchen with him. Then I sussed it out.)
ANYWAY (she says again, and this time she means it)
My pitter pattering heart has been trying out all kinds of fun new ways to present itself to me lately. ‘Ben Gay like warmth’ feeling … left armpit pain … then last night, it got sassy on the drums … brrrrrrrrm, burr, brrr-bump. And then something in my chest grabbed a tambourine and started showing off.
A friend taught me to cough to get myself back into rhythm – so I lay there, coughing like a dork.
THEN there’s Butters. Oh Butters.
Don’t let this image fool you. She does. not. sleep!
For two weeks or so – every few hours from 9pm until my alarm goes off at 6am (not that it’s had a chance to go off for the last week), she stands inches from my face and whines and wags.
I get up, let her out – and then leave the flipping front door open so she can get back in.
You see the crack? And you’ve seen her nose – so seriously, WHY can’t she ‘nose’ her way back out?!?! She sure as hell can do it when a cat walks w/in a mile of the house.
I might as well just put an ad on Craig’s List inviting any local wackos or serial killers to my insanely unsecure house at night.
“Come on in! Doors open! I’ll just be in my room, trying to sleep. Be as quiet as possible when you kill me.”
Why does she sleep inside? Our fence is chicken wire basically … I think intended for really apathetic, frail chickens. And we have coyotes out and about.
In between the fun excursions to the flipping door – the tiny snatches of sleep I grabbed onto, (which, resulted in nightmares) Waking up to Nic church mousin’ around the house and my heart getting all excited, I woke up (pffft … didn’t really ‘wake up’ so much as ‘give up’) none too pleased.
I tried to have a chat with her.
She didn’t care. She assures me she’ll be doing it tonight too. And the night after that, and the night after that.
And the thought occurred … when she’s older, and not energetic – probably I’ll miss the spry insomniac that she used to be.
Banana Bubbles
Had a sweet memory pop into my head as I was driving to the laundromat today.
It was of blowing bubbles into my banana milkshakes at the Bentalls department store cafe, in the Bracknell town centre.
Back when straws were made of paper – with their vibrant colored barber pole pattern.
Milkshakes in England were more of the Nesquick variety. It wasn’t until I came to America and had my first McDonald’s experience that I learned just how thick and ice-creamy they could be! (I have to say – I prefer the first kind.)
I would blow those bubbles and my mum would tell me to stop – I suppose it wasn’t very lady like – but they made such beautiful pale yellow bubbles!
That memory segued to more of Bentalls. Memories of the tiny cottages and shops they had at Christmas time. They were on display close to the cafe entrance I believe, lit up inside – so quaint and magical. I wanted one so badly!
Such wonderment in that store. It’s where Roger Hargreaves signed my Mr. Fussy Mr. Men book.
It’s where I would visit Father Christmas in the grotto they set up for us wide-eyed children. They did a good job too – lots of decorations to keep your mind off of the wait in line.
But my favorite memory there still has to be the times my mum and I stopped at that cafe. It was such a treat.
And now 35+ years later, I’m visited out of nowhere by those banana bubble memories.
Sweet.
Debauchery Soup 