4.27.2006

Where are my geese?

If you were to stop by for a surprise visit at this moment my current condition might be alarming. If you asked me what brought on the need to prepare the decadent treat of chocolate dipped strawberries that has left me with a nice brown lip-liner and perhaps a couple drips on my chin ... I don't know that I could explain it. It just felt 100% warranted. There were no second thoughts that maybe this would not be the best after school snack or that the amount of chocolate that I was about to digest might leave me feeling a little ill. Just more rational thoughts such as "well I have already heated this container of fondue chocolate once and it is probably only meant to be heated once ... so I better finish it off or I will have to throw it out ... and really it is not in my DNA to ever waste chocolate (unless it is those malt centered Easter eggs that taste like vomit)" and " I just can't stand to see such beautiful berries go to waste ... I must only eat berries until they are gone" and "Mmmmm I love chocolate" and "I love strawberries" and "I love chocolate covered strawberries".
This is not a new thing for me though. Goes way back to the days when Kylie, Kevin, and I would melt chocolate chips with coconut in the microwave and eat an entire bowl of it. The perks of having a working mother ... and for her the horrors of having children that could turn baking supplies into an after-school heart attack. Ohhh she tried so hard to have us eat healthy. And of course the other favorite was the cheese melt ... cheddar cheese melted on white bread in the microwave. Where would we have been without a microwave?
So I am learning that there is nothing better at making you feel sorry for yourself than having to tell all one million schools, parents, students, and co-workers that you will be away on sick leave. The face ... the face that says "YOU ARE SICK". I will just nicely get distracted by immersing myself in sessions, notes, and reports ... and someone will inevitably pull me out of my much enjoyed denial that anything is out of the ordinary. I hope that their face is not met with the face that I am making right now thinking about the whole situation... that would not be good ... concern and care should not be responded to with disdain. Must work on that ... I know I do that face to others all the time ... I think it is instinctual and unavoidable.
There was a lady on a stretcher in the elevator today who was clearly living with cancer. A nice looking sweet couple who I gathered to be her parents were by her side talking to her, or rather trying to talk to her. She was young, and beautiful even with nothing more than peach fuzz for hair. There was something disheartening about her, something that tugged at my heart. She would not look at anybody, not even her sweet parents, only straight up and she was wringing her feet like a nervous person wrings their hands. I felt relieved to get off the elevator and was surprised to find tears rolling down my cheeks. Note to self: IPOD is good but keep songs happy and upbeat, slow songs make experience even clearer and more intense. I can't stop picturing her.

By the way, has anyone seen my geese? They are missing. I am getting a little worried.

3 comments:

valiantqueen said...

I saw them tonight. I was coming out of our "Spring Concert" (which was a poorly thrown together in 3 days musical/puppetal extravanightmare) and they flew overhead in the twilight. They seemed happy, maybe they just had to go pick something up?

Here's a story. One of the gals I work with received a large box (think bigger than an apple box or something) of chicken bones with some skin, fat, and meat still attached from a parent after the concert. It was a gift, so she could make soup. Egads! I was horrified at the thought of how long the chicken bones had been unrefrigerated, not to mention chicken grosses me out at the best of times, much less when all heaped up in a box! However, I thought that the gesture was phenomenal from a mom who speaks no english to her child's treasured teacher. I felt the laughter and gathering of teacher's in the parking lot to turn up their noses and freak out was in poor taste. I think that it is too bad that we sometimes think we are better than the people in the community we teach in. What could be better than saving chicken parts from your work so that your child's teacher can feed her family? I currently can't think of a thing. Can you?

Anonymous said...

My Darling Heather

Your geese are back. They fly over my condo at 5:00 in the morning and honk like there all racing for the same parking spot. My cat, Dizzy, dashes to the window to see what all the commotion is about and can not understand why she can't go out to play with them. Believe me they are all nesting along the river by my place. If you want to visit them, give me a call. We are not supposed to feed them but we could hide a bag of bread in my big new purse...

If queenlatreesa is reading this and their are spelling errors, please forgive me..

Love and hugs
Kate

Anonymous said...

I too saw your geese this week. I was on my way home from Market Mall and there they were wandering the pathways by the river as if they owned them. It made me smile to see them because I immediately thought of you, Love you,
Kirst

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