You probably didn't see that rainbow unless you live south of the City, east of Woodlake, and north of Parkwood. We have a unique natural environment in Chatsford you see, possibly due to the FedEx air traffic from RDU. That plus the Air Force seeding the clouds with crystals, which I'm told by reliable sources happens regularly.
When I saw that rainbow, I expected a most clement morning to follow and I'll be a wet smack and a miss if a most clement morning was just what we didn't get anything but. Sunshine, blue skies, birds singing on key, and hot and cold running water was the order of the day. But beauty, and mark my words very carefully, beauty isn't everything.
No beauty isn't the end all. I woke this morning to the sensation of something like an aardvark licking the top of my coconut. When I say aardvark, I mean something with a tongue like sandpaper. A quick glimpse told me it was a brindled cat of uncertain parentage--part tabby, part tortoiseshell-calico. It was Uma, Queen of Cats.
This Uma, you may already know is addicted to the Genome, following me from room to room and insinuating herself between me and anything that has my attention. She thinks she can stop anytime she wants but the truth is that the Genome bouquet is far too strong for her willpower.
Immediately upon waking and feeling that tongue, I sat up in bed. The feeling that greeted me on sitting up was the one you sometimes have after a late evening on the tiles. The one where you feel you may die in about two minutes. The sharp pain between the eyes was surely the same as that felt by Sisera, when Jael, the wife of Heber, used a handy spike and hammer to deliver the Hebrews from their oppressors.
"Poopsie," I called out when I heard the sound of running water coming from the bath. I had rightly concluded that the daughter of the Russian steppes was performing her morning ablutions. Don't tell her I called her the daughter of etc. She doesn't like it. I'll tell you why in another post.
"Good morning," she said and I toyed for a moment with the idea of mentioning to her that mindfulness requires non-judgment, but after careful consideration let it pass.
"Do you have one of those concoctions of yours in the ice box?" I said.
"Mango and pineapple," she said.
"With the secret ingredient," I asked.
"Blenheim ginger ale," she said and my heart leapt with joy.
I made my way carefully out of the bedroom and down the staircase taking great care to avoid the feline traffic. At the fridge, I retrieved the elixir, bunged it down the hatch, and then waited for the magic to begin.
Something there was that drew my attention upward where I saw Abbie Hoffman, surely you remember A. Hoffman, the tuxedo kitty, had taken up his favorite position atop the kitchen cabinets.
For a moment we were eye to eye and although I couldn't know exactly what he was thinking, the expression he wore on his whiskered map said, "There but for the grace of God go I."
Then the curative properties of the elixir kicked in with the force of Judgment Day and the top of my head flew off and my eyeballs ricocheted off the walls. When I picked myself up from the kitchen floor, Ms. Wonder shimmered in. And now Abbie H was nowhere in sight. The proceedings were probably too much for his delicate constitution.
"Take a look at this," said The Wonder whle shoving a brochure toward me.
After reassembling the remains, I took the sheet and gave it a cursory glance. It was a travel brochure for something called a Viking River Cruise.
"Let's go next year," she said.
There was a brief silence. We have not shared the same thoughts on travel since that Saturday morning drive to the state farmer's market, which I'm sure you remember well. And I didn't want to go into the subject when I knew in my heart that I must vote no.
"Poopsie," I said, "I appreciate your attempt to appeal to the Viking blood of the Genome ancestors. The Jarls having sailed to Britain with Canute and whatnot, and I'm fully aware that it is the Viking strain in me that appeals to the Slavic strain in you, but ransacking a few castles in France and then returning to Denmark to party is not my idea of a fun weekend."
"It will be educational," she said.
Well, I don't know about you but I was full of education years ago. No more room. Before I can take in anything new I have to throw something out. Why bother? is the way I sum it up.
I realized that if things were different from what they were, not that they ever are, I could simply shake the bean and hand the brochure back. But things being what they were, I made a decision, which in the future will surely be seen as a major turning point. I chose my words very carefully.
"OK," I said.