And Now For Something Completely Different

For starters, IF my father was still alive, today would be his 90th birthday. He died five years ago on Juneteenth. It was during my surgery-a-thon years ('20-'21). Back in those days, I usually only left the damn house via ambulance headed for MGH. I’d gotten the heads up from my sister that Daddy, in hospice, was fading and only had days left. I was physically unable to make the trip so the last time I saw him was via FaceTime.

Jen planted a wee catalpa tree in our back yard in his memory. Now that spring is finally here in coastal New England, there are buds on the trees. Leaves and blossoms soon.

Happy birthday Daddy!

Next – I had a very strange dream the other night. Hillel, his wife, Catherine, and I were in an old, abandoned, Victorian house. This was some sort of Nancy Drew/Scooby Doo/Hardy Boys kind of mystery setting. We were investigating murderers or ghosts or, possibly, murderous ghosts. In any case, something chillingly dangerous.

All of a sudden, as we were creeping down rickety back stairs toward the kitchen, flashlights in hand, a horde of zombies, who were clearly afflicted with leprosy, broke in through the back door.

Hillel and Catherine knew what to do immediately. They were on the job. Me? I was frozen in place – skeeved out and scared shitless.

Hillel announced that he would simply go down and make these new guests a proper tea (with cucumber sandwiches, scones and a nice fruit custard tart, of course) and so he did. As Hillel and his wife went downstairs to welcome the horde and prepare tea, the house transformed into their very own lovely home. The dead of night became sunny daytime and the leprosy ridden zombies, while still shambling, disgusting, undead, diseased things, became civilized, socially ept, veritable bon vivants. 

For my part, I was still in the back hall, observing. Lurking, really. As you probably know, I am, quite possibly, the antithesis of socially skilled and polished. Yes, even in a tea party of leprosy riddled zombies where body parts are dropping quicker than Republican ethics when ol’ Leon starts stuffing millions into their Y-fronts.

What’s this dream mean? Anything? Is this just my unconscious mind putting together horror/comedy entertainments for me? Honestly? I half expected Gene Wilder, Cloris Leachman, or Peter Boyle to come out from behind a velvet curtain. Yes, I know that’s Frankenstein, not zombies, but if my dream was going to be a diversion, it would be Mel Brooksian.

I believe, if there’s really any significance beyond my brain just amusing me, it’s this – this past winter’s been a real long, cold, slog. My health has been crappy (and, generally, not due to my usual NF2 ridiculousness). The weather’s been too wet, windy, and snowy for me to get outside. I’ve, pretty much, been housebound. Given that I’m not much of a people person (I’m a curmudgeonly introvert? A cuddly misanthrope? A recluse who doesn’t bite…much?) Staying in wasn’t a hardship. After all, I have Ten, Jen, Oni, Kevin AND three cats (Cake, Skitter, and Walter)!

Still, five months of bad weather, up and down health, and only getting outside to go to physical therapy, doctor appointments, those few days spent in hospital, and my usual load of MRIs, really got old and dreary. I’m, possibly, feeling a mite antsy. I actually want to get out of the house – take little walks along the seawall – build up my walking strength and endurance, stare at the waves, be on the lookout for sea monsters and shit (if I see one, maybe I could name it Clyde or Lavinia – I wonder if they like Temptations cat treats. PFFFT – who doesn’t)?

ANYWAY, this coming week should be mostly dry and in the low 50s so I should be able to get out for a few walkies. From there maybe I can work my way up to going out to lunch and people watching. I may not necessarily want to interact with other scary humans (live and in person EEK!) but sitting in a cafe with a calming cup of tea, observing from afar might be nice. Maybe a little picnic on the Common once it gets warmer?

Question — for viewing purposes, would opera glasses, binoculars, or a telescope be best? I think I’d look darling with opera glasses but binoculars might be more effective and most dashing!