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"I have need of the sky. I have business with the grasses. I will up and away at the break of day to where the hawk is wheeling lone and high and where the clouds drift by."   - Richard Hovey, 1894-1961

Monday, September 24, 2007

The Broom and Mop Brigade

Who do you call at 4 in the morning to ask how to get a baby opossum out from under the dishwasher?

Anybody up?

*update* 8:30am

What we tried last night...
I thought about calling Ghostbusters, but it still looked very much alive, just scared. I locked Orson in the living room. His duty was fulfilled by letting Mark know something was under there. We tried getting him out with the broom handle, but he just went into the corner cubby. He didn't seem to be hungry for canned cat food. Eventually I convinced Mark to block off the way to the rest of the house, so that he could only get to the back door (immediately opposite the dishwasher), turn off the lights, leave the back door cracked and go to bed for another REM cycle.

I got up this morning. I don't see him under there. I let Orson out, and he doesn't seem to think he's under there.

We think the opossum snuck in when Orson was outside.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Klutz

I just had a few friends over for dinner tonight, and I made a royal mess of the kitchen. This is a particular skill of mine, that Mark has sometimes called "Jedi-like," particularily when there's sauce above the sink on the window when I was making it on the stove, or when there's vegetable peels in front of the refridgerator when I was working by the sink. (This drives him crazy.) There are also times of Jedi-grace when I walk into walls, corners, doors, lightposts, mailboxes, people, trees, lightpoles, bushes... I admit it. I'm a klutz.

I've been pondering for a while where this skill of mine comes from. I don't have elegant rationalizations for my condition, like Mark has for his being a packrat. There's really just one explanation - I'm distracted.

Much of the time, my brain and my body are in two different places. While I'm walking, I'm thinking, not about what's in front of me, but when I can do the laundry and who I need to call tonight. When I'm cooking, I'm thinking about what the next three steps in the meal are. This is dangerous especially when I'm hungry!

Why don't I pay attention to where I'm at right now? It probably also has to do with not wanting to be where I'm at - not now, but when I was a kid. Things were good and things were not so good. And when they weren't so good, I didn't want to be there, so my mind went somewhere else. That's a hard habit to break. Then the habit was also helpful in being an over-achiever. (And being an over-achiever is useful in pleasing the family, getting praise, and taking care of others.) To be an over-achiever I needed to think about a million things at once (none of which is right where I'm at), and do at least three things at a time. The consumate multi-tasker - I can plan dinner, find my transit-pass in my purse, and check my voicemail at the same time, (but not walk in a straight line). The positive reinforcement of the distracted mind, makes it even harder to focus.

But, I have been getting better over time. I don't walk into nearly as many things as I used to. I don't cut myself while cooking very often at all anymore (only every other month or so). And I'm learning to watch my habits in the kitchen. Tonight, at least after making the mess, I wiped all the surfaces down AND this included the stove and some stuff on the floor. (Positive reinforcement please!)

This is not easy progress, but worth it. It's nice not to have bruises with unknown origins. It's nice not to have cut fingers. It would be nice to just focus on one thing at a time, and not be obsessively planning the next thing or thinking about what else I have to do. There are times when I am present, most often in the company of other people. Now, I'm learning to be present with myself.