Maitri Libellule

Today is one of my "out" days, meaning, as I barely leave the house, when I do I try to get a jillion things done so I don't have to go out again, sometimes for days. Being a reclusive artist and writer makes for a peaceful and soothing life, except on days like today.

Now, the day started off wonderfully well when my sweet daughter Rachel, my middle child and mother of my precious 5 year old grandson, came over for coffee after dropping Lukie off at pre-school. This was a very precious time to me because Rachel is working on her Master's Degree (she work's with autistic children) in Clinical Psychology and with her family besides life is pretty hectic for her. Added to the fact that she is the only one of my three children that live in town, our morning coffee's are very special.

The day continued on very nicely when I went to babysit said grandson while Rachel was working with her little kids for part of her Master's thesis, and I got to spend time with my wee little man. It was afterwards that the tension rose and my body fell.

I go to Sam's to get my meds because they are so cheap there and do a fair amount of my grocery shopping there as well, and I go about twice a month, always after babysitting. As you walk something like 1500 miles to get everything on your list, and then stand in line for 3 days to check out, and with my stamina flagging, I decided to sit down for a minute in an especially comfy looking recliner. Ooooh, the soft cream colored material, the chair plush and plump and I think my sigh was heard across the entire store as I sat down. I made the mistake of cranking up the foot rest and I thought, "I am never going to get out of this chair. I am going to spend the night here. Maybe 3. They will have to remove me bodily and I will likely get arrested. I wonder if Jeff will bail me out of jail for refusing to get out of a recliner in Sam's? I wonder what kind of fee this crime will cost me?

Finally, I remembered the five dogs at home who were probably, by now, desperate to go out, or worse had gone in. I hauled myself up and out of that recliner woefully, shedding a tear, and pushed my cart up to the front where I believe I was 70th in line. They filled my refillable bags and I wheeled them out to the van and prayed that 10 strong men would show up to put the huge, heavy bags in the van. No luck. I moaned and groaned and it likely sounded like an animal was being killed what with all the noise I made getting them in the car.

It felt so good to sit in the car I thought I might not have the energy to turn it on and start it up, especially since I knew that once I arrived home I would have 5 dogs hurling themselves at me while I shouted, "Mommy's Hooooo-oooommmme." There is a frantic shuffling about with me trying to set down the first bag while trying not to trip over 4 pugs, and then get them all out the door with Moe tagging along wondering if the pugs might ever disappear if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough. I go, bedraggled, with the dogs and my handy dandy plastic bag to do "Poody Doody," and once all the little hooligans are back in I get the rest of the groceries. I put all the refrigerated and frozen foods away, left the 3 Sam's reusable bags sitting in the kitchen floor, and, hurting all over I got a glass of wine and sat in my chair. Sam, my velcro pug, flew up into the chair happy that I was home and he could drape himself over my shoulder. He always acts like he's sure I'm never coming back, even though I only leave the house at most 2 afternoons a week. We are both sitting here together, sluglike, and now I don't know if I can ply myself out of this chair.

Ah, but there are groceries to put away, a shower to be had, a clean but soft raggedy caftan to put on, dinner to be made and dishes to do. And then I will sit like a rutabaga watching mindless t.v. until I fall asleep, most likely, right in this chair. If I root in place and start sprouting you may never hear from me again, but most likely you shall since the dogs get me up for the first time between 6 and 6:30.

It is now nearly 9 p.m. and I have not done any of the above so I guess I shall have to stop here and get my evening chores done before I poop out completely. If I can just get up out of this chair, which at this juncture is looking more doubtful all the time...


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