Wednesday, September 06, 2006
A couple of summers ago, I overheard some kids at a pool talking about going to the dentist and a procedure called conscious sedation. The parent started explaining how that you are awake, but you don't feel anything. There's an awareness of what's going on around you, but it's dim. I've also heard this anthesia referred to as twilight, a word and a time I have always loved, the time of day when the certain things begin to wind down and others wind up (snakes and women come out at night -- ha!), and of course, everything looks beautiful and fading. As far as the horrors of dentistry go, I've always been wide awake (with the dentist sweating and cursing, trying to pull out a very impacted wisdom tooth) or completely knocked out, so much so that I didn't wake for hours and when I did, I crawled to the phone and called my mother and told her that I did not have to follow her rules anymore. I was a mere 26, and it seemed like a good time to assert my independence.
That said, I think I've lived large chunks of my life, as we all do, in that state of going through the motions until something jars us into feeling or noticing things around us. Once I stayed in a Bates-like motel where a diapered poodle shuffled around the desk and rested his tiny tired poodle head on a needlepoint pillow sampler that said, Men and Chocolate Are Both Better Rich. I felt such sadness for the diapered poodle, but a great joy that someone loved him so much that they didn't mind his incontinence in later years. Nothing worked in the hotel -- the shower only had hot water, really hot water, and the television a mere two channels, one public access and the other played a 20/20 special about parrots and how difficult they are as pets, requiring tons of care and prone to self-mutilation when they got lonely or sad. Some of the owners were expressing horror at how much they had to do for their parrots and over the fact that these pets would outlive them by many years so there would be no natural reprieve. I thought I'd go into the shower and have a good cry over the poodle and the needy parrots and all other things lost to me, but I couldn't stand the heat for long. It wasn't the kind of lulling heat one might wish for.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"When I talk to the camera, mate, it's not like I'm talking to the camera, I'm talking to you because I want to whip you around and plunk you right there with me. " Steve Irwin
1 shot of chambord
1 dollop of heavy cream
Float cream on top of chambord
Benedictions and Maledictions
My sweet dog friend in the picture is Greta, and I would like to send birthday wishes to Greta's mother, the beautiful Karen, today!