Yep, More Snow

That is what I awoke to this morning. A little later and a little more tired than usual.

Last night, Blue and I went up to bed at the late hour of 8pm. We left Lisa watching the news. But I was more tired than usual having had to hump 6 bales of hay on my back half way down our hill because I couldn’t chance letting my friend, Tom Connelly’s truck get caught in the muck down by the barn. The previously scheduled delivery of 20 bales for today had to be postponed because of today’s anticipated snow. But, because Claire and Honey were on their last bale, Tom swung by for an emergency delivery of a half dozen in the late afternoon. That will hold us for a couple of weeks. Thanks Tom. You rock.

Blue also must have been extra tired from her day hanging with the mules, so given that Lisa’s side of the King Sized bed was vacant, she crawled into Lisa’s spot and fell into a dragon’s sleep with her head resting on Lisa’s pillow. I was out before I heard her second snore.

Some time later I was awakened by Lisa’s jostling. Blue, a very large creature, refused to give way to Lisa’s haranguing, or, for that matter, even wake up. So Lisa went for the softer target and jostled me awake to force me into Blue’s regular spot at the center of the bed. It really wasn’t true center, because Blue’s weight pinned the blanket in a way that prevented me from getting there.

So Lisa and I had to squeeze our bodies into a spot made for just mine.

It was really quite funny seeing the two of us try to squeeze into the smaller bed space, so of course we both started laughing. And we both then commented in the dark on the absurdity of the experience of allowing Blue – who snored throughout the event – to force us to adjust to her comfort. But talking and laughing in the dark instantly transported us back to the time when we used to share my tiny twin bed in Aunt Violet’s Flop House back in Riverdale.

Back then we had to wrap our arms and legs around each other in a form of St. Brigid’s knot to ensure that neither fell out of the bed during the night. And, during those times, we often would talk long into the hours about what life may be like if I ever made it as a writer. You see, at that point, where I had already dropped out of college and was working construction and security jobs, and occasionally as a bartender, waiter or life guard, the idea of being a lawyer wasn’t even on the horizon. That was another happy accident.

And of course that led to us talking about some of the people and events of that time, and even some of the animals from back in the beginning, like Jessie, Joe Serrano’s amazing wolf-like dog, and Murray the huge grey and white alley cat we adopted, who looked like an old street fighter with a chewed ear, a permanently squinting eye and the broadest shoulders I’ve ever seen on a cat to this day. We talked about the details and idiosyncrasies of the old AVFH apartment. All of the nooks and crannies. Doors and stairways to nowhere. It was like the Winchester House –

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winchester_Mystery_House

I could visual it as clearly last night as I could back in the 70s. As anyone who ever signed that AVFH guestbook – safely protected within Lenny’s vault – will confirm, it really was a unique place. Magical.

But starting on those initial shared memories was like pulling the thread on a sweater, and the conversation continued to draw in the many people we’ve encountered from decade to decade to decade, long after we left AVFH behind us. We laughed when we realized how many of them have ended up in The Claire Saga.

It also occurred to us that very few of those relationships were continuous. Many of the people we remembered met very different versions of who we were in our timeline. Snapshots of moments of Lisa and I travelling along our path of trying to figure out this world, get educated, land our professions and have and raise children.

The friends we made along the way were the sustenance of our souls. Water stations along the long distance race of life. Many of them appeared at just the right times to hold our hands, slap us on the back, or kick us in the ass and tell us to keep moving forward. I am forever in the debt of all of those people. I hope you all know how much each one of you have impacted me. How much you all mean to me.

A lot of those people have been drawn back into our orbit since the books started dropping. A lot of wonderful new friends have also appeared in this reconfigured alternate universe. What is amazing is how much cross-pollination now seems to occur on-line with the blending of the old and new friends. It gives me the same feeling as watching the funeral scene of the magnificent Tim Burton film, Big Fish (which, btw, was based on the 1998 novel Big Fish: A Novel of Mythic Proportions, by Daniel Wallace. Just saying.)

You see, when it is all said and done, we are all just a bunch of amazing characters in random stories that will hopefully be remembered by others when our corporeal forms have dissolved and our eternal energies have crossed the veil. Hopefully those stories will draw a laugh or two, and maybe some tears, between a couple of other people whispering in the dark on some strange night.

And, oh yeah, we did have some great sex. We’re not dead yet. Until Blue finally woke up and decided that those sounds in the dark were of distress, and that her constant caretakers’ combined safety and vitality needed to be immediately salvaged by the incessant licking of any exposed flesh by a dragon’s tongue. There was nowhere to hide. But that led to even more laughter. You gotta take the bitter with the sweet.

Well, that all resulted in even less sleep than usual. And to me serving the 2 am nocturnal meal closer to 3 am. And by then another layer of snow had arrived at Casa Claire. Cold but pretty.

Claire and Honey were understanding.

But it gave me one more story to tell. And for that, I am truly grateful.

So, now I face another Saturday of food prep and whatever outdoor chores I can handle in the snow.

I better get to it.

But first some kitty cuddling and my rounds.

You fine, five readers finalize those plans for the big game tomorrow.

Knock off any weekend errands that need to be taken care of so there is nothing to focus on tomorrow other than binge eating, shit talking and cathartic screaming at the bodies colliding on your large, flat televisions.

Share that time with family and friends. Try to steal a glance and save a memory or two of the people who are around you. The characters in your play. They will be much more meaningful to you in the future than any game you’ll ever watch.

And no matter what other mischief we get up to, let us make today a great one.