Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Rest In Peace

Last photo of Edison ever taken
This is the last photograph of Edison

DSC04081





My heart is broken into a million zillion pieces

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Edison Update

Dog

In the last couple of days Edison has developed an infection on his back that I doubt he has the strength to fight off. He is weak enough, some days struggling to keep his footing on the kitchen floor, some days splayed out like bambi on ice. Like most of us, he needs a spot now and again.

He is going in to see the vet in the morning, just to have a look. My resistance to the reality of what is happening is crumbling and within the last 24 hours since we found the infection find it impossible to believe anymore that we are just taking a few extra measures to stay healthy, like pausing tireless day after day to put in contact lenses or inject a shot of insulin, simple measures in an otherwise perfectly normal life.

I am afraid we are down to the last few days.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Hood To Coast 2007

It was a little difficult to sit around feeling perfectly ambulatory among the stiff legged, among the war stories and the ravenous hunger. I feel better having been shot at, fingernails sparking the pavement uphill toward the idea of food.

Hood To Coast 2007

Still though, I love the good company. The beach was misty damp and packed with runners and the husbands and wives of runners and the children and grandparents of runners and the grandchildren and parents of runners with more runners coming down the beach across the finish line all along before and after we sat in the beer garden getting wet, eating noodles, telling stories.

My team, they all fell asleep in a beach house well before midnight, they fell asleep and I worked on a performance art piece I call "SLEEPING" until I accidentally fell asleep at about 4:30 in the morning. At the drawing board, how embarrassing.

We're back home, I am back working and with vigilance back to applying for work.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

I case you didnt know already

This is Hood To Coast weekend, my most best top favorite number one event. I am NOT ABLE to run, although I know I could and why didn't I just do it anyway cause then I would have to drop out of the marathon (which I did anyway) and I'd have a swollen ankle (fer awhile) but its not like I don't anyway... I totally played this wrong... but I didn't....run that is.

Instead! I answered the patriotic call of volunteerism which sounds similar to the draft because a team can be DQed(!) without three (3) volunteers BUT while you MUST GO you go to support someone you LOVE doing something you LOVE to do.

So I volunteered. I was sent to Sandy at Exchange Point 6 where the first van hands off to the second van for the first time.

Exchange Captain

Luckily, having a square jaw and prominent forehead got me picked for Co-Captain of the entire Sandy Exchange which means my new best friend Doug and I got to wear Race Official hats and after whipping the junction into a well oiled machine stood back and exercised our power by forcing everyone onto the gravel and occasionally flexing on our subordinates. The HTC Race Director even came down and told us we were the most well organized exchange (so far) and I was like weak in the knees and OMG DOES THIS MEAN YOU WILL GIVE ME A LIFETIME OF RACE ADMISSION but I didn't really say that I just tried to act sociable which, when I do it is similar to what you might call Autism.

When our exchange coordinator came back he informed us we'd had so many extra subordinates because he'd just learned that we were supposed to be posting people all along the route where the leg takes turns from the main highway. I learned the subtle yet distinct comfort of middle management; power without the buck.

After four and a half hours of stoic service the second shift took over. I got to keep the hat and got a sweetass Army issue Leatherman tool from another volunteer whose husband works for the company and assured us the tools we got weren't even available for retail.

I was home and having dinner with friends well before my husbands van rolled through the Sandy exchange, being that the faster a team is projected to run the later in the day they start. He is probably running past the Burlington Tavern on Hwy. 30 right now, in the dark. OH MY GOD I JUST HAD A TWISTING DEEP IN ME HOW CAN IT BE... argh.

Anyway, I bought him a huge big bouquet of flowers and will be waiting at the finish line tomorrow afternoon IN MY TEAM SHIRT and my RACE OFFICIAL hat which I hope will get me to the front of the beer line at the very least. Or maybe I'll wear a bikini and ask if I can touch his medal. I love being married!

Monday, August 20, 2007

on NOT Running

graph-2-mcrun

Last night I dreamed I was running at top speed and it felt so good my feet turning over almost quicker then manageable on the cusp of flying and falling I just ran and thought AGAIN, FINALLY! but when I woke up I was still not able to run at all. I have never gone so long without running for what feels like no apparent reason though when my wrist was broken there was an obvious handicap and there were drugs that caused me less pain most importantly in the seat of my emotions where things turn hostile and lawless so quickly.

I do not deal with anxiety well. I manage stress with a captivating degree of finesse. If my feet catch on fire I leap into imperative action and reach with one hand for the extinguisher and one hand for the phone. I can almost see, in these moments a global map of the emergency. But across the murky internal boundary I become almost ungovernable. This surely is my greatest fault.

Greatest weakness among fabulous faults.

I promised myself I would not run until the end of this month. I don't know if I have enough honor to keep my word. I am becoming increasingly nervous about the eruption of tiny symptoms, spasms of discontent and visceral discord. I am afraid I will start smoking, I am afraid I will drink too much, I am afraid I will stomp on ants. I will turn on myself and I am a fierce enemy.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Still still moving



We have had ten days to move, which seems like, NEAT! OH I CAN JUST TAKE MY TIME AND BRING OVER WHAT I NEED WHEN I NEED IT but it isn't like that at all. It is equally as frantic and twice as scattered as regular inaday moving.

On the second and a half night Willie slipped away and disappeared which brought all moving momentum to a screeching halt while we walked the streets for hours in the sun calling for her and meeting our new neighbors, some of whom already know my husband because this house, this is the one he was brought home from the hospital to and there are still tricycle wounds to the siding and the shadows of holes where he threw darts at the wall and anyway. She was in the knotty apple tree out back the whole time. Day three and a half the move resumed.



Moving inherently makes you take stock of yourself. Usually when I move I waste the full week before wading through old letters and photographs as if a bad camera shot at last summers BBQ into the garbage is going to lighten my load. My priorities are so retarded. Moving gives me a chance to turn the soil and shiver at the worms elongating, shrinking, elongating exposed to the sun. Time is like that. But this time I just took whole albums and put them into boxes in part because I want out of the cabin so so so badly and in part because now that I am married I don't want to have to think about what to do with those half naked pictures of old boyfriends, such as obviously taken from bed while he dressed for work. I can't have those, I don't want those, and I wont remember who I am without them. I need evidence and unlike some people the firmity of my bones is not always enough.



Nothing seems of much value when confronted with the relativity of its burden across town. I really have nothing. Nothing much. I own fairly large numbers of a very select things. For example, I found out definitively tonight that I have 59 potted plants, maybe 61 or 64 if I recounted. I have, notdifinitively about 458 pairs of shoes, 5372 pounds of books, and somewhat definitively 21 bottles of hair product. Beside the familiar photographs of people I don't even know anymore. And letters sent me a thousand years ago.

But now I have other things too. I have wedding gifts; shiny pots and pans, dishes, paper thin wine glasses with deep resonant bowls... I am waiting for an occasion now. Maybe something spectacular and memorable like, locating the box with my other black Dansko sandal or finding gainful employment. In the meantime I can do spectacular things with rice and beans, beans and rice. And books, being deaddeadly broke they might be sold for an accumulative tidy sum.

Edison has been doing spectacularly well since the day we returned from our honeymoon. I am holding my breath for two weeks expecting his final downturn but every day he follows me still on my heels, eats with greed, even gives chase to the neighbor cats feeble but with heart.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Happy Birthday!

Today is Edison's 9th birthday. He spent most of the day with his tongue in the dirt. We went for a ride, ate some biscuits, barked at a passing dog. He is having a very good week. This is one of my favorite photos of him taken last summer before he got sick.

Edison

Back to moving boxes now.

Eerie calm



I am sort of dizzy with inactivity and boredom, waiting for the next thing to do. I am also lousy at the reins, staying up late sort of hovering around the internet like someone might invite me in to write. Instead of sleeping I close my eyes and hold still until I am hypnotized. It is fake sleep. I have been fakesleeping for the last few years. Occasionally I fail at fakesleeping and fall arealsleep.

This is the last official night of hypnotic sleep faking I will spend in this little cabin. Partly packed, partly confused, wholly mystified. If it weren't for sweeping changes I might be slightly insane with the inability to run. I probably should be working on my resume but the idea is so deeply distasteful at the moment it makes me shudder. OH GOD NO, DON'T MAKE ME DO IT. I don't even know where to start.

In the morning. Thats where.

I take it back. Not being able to run will, sooner then later make me wildly insane and its a damn good thing we are moving to a bigger house where I can find my own floor to slam doors and think nasty thoughts and whimper cry over a stupid little swollen ankle. It is a good thing there are Very Pressing Matters at hand to distract me.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Happy Birthday Mama

For my Mama

I took this picture in Old San Juan just for you even though Clark stood there and was like YOU ARE TAKING A PICTURE OF A RAT SITTING IN A TREE. I knew you would have shared your fistful of seed and that is one of the many many reasons why I love you. Happy Birthday!

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Back home



I think the wedding went well but I don't hardly remember anything at all. It did not rain. I only got to sit down twice, for a brief moment each time. I remember that clearly, island moments in the blur.



I was kind of a wreck inside and felt like my stitching was visible and maybe in some places the straws of hay were poking out. In the days before I wanted to go crawl in my mama's lap but she was so sick I couldnt get past the end of her bed.



I ran 8.72 miles that morning and by the time we were in San Juan, Puerto Rico my ankle was swollen up and over the top of my shoe, but it didn't really hurt. I cried my eyes out about leaving Edison for the first two nights and didn't hardly sleep at all. Two days later we flew over to Culebra.



We spent the next five days snorkling. I am mostly seawater now, from above look like deep water, from below white as the sky... despite using a full bottle of sunblock. I wrote on paper, with a pen everyday. Pages. It is mostly illegible, half word frankenstein constructions. I read a whole book and took nearly 700 photographs.

The swelling went down again, mostly. Back down at least to where it was before the wedding. I think it is fractured and I think that means I wont be able to run Hood to Coast, nor will I be ready for the Marathon. I am holding that at arms length for the moment.

Edison is still alive but probably not for long. We are moving on Monday. I have to look for a job. I totally feel like a human again and have to piece the last month all together before I can say much more about anything. I'll start working on the guest posts that I owe and go for long long walks in my running shoes. I have bug bites to scratch too. Cant forget that.

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