It's always something.
How clear the words become.
So, on the path to fixing.
Orion and I (photos, previous post) had root beer floats. We discovered that ice chips could be skipped across the water just like stones. He was as thrilled to triple-skip his ice chip across the pool as any boy ever to skip a smooth stone across a Norman Rockwell pond by the train rails, quiet on a Saturday and warmed by the sun.
Oh wait, it was a girl-- and it was me.
Anyway. We had fun.
I'm still good at skipping stones---thanks Dad.
On fixing, it was back to the realization that this is a tough time for lots of people. We're working with a skeleton crew--- lots of hours and lots of hats. It takes a toll, especially the stress.
I'm not very good at stepping off the wheel to recharge. I tend to plow through. A good trait for emergencies and deadlines, but not so good for long-term. I'm learning.
By Tuesday I was a bit better, having rested and watched a movie or two with Aubrey (including Pontypool) and played with Orion. I was ready to get back to work. As I sat with my feet up I played with clay, making little things, including tiny Poppets. By Wednesday afternoon I was in full swing, so much that as I zipped around the corner from studio to house I slipped on the tiles---ceramic, very slippery and quite rigid. Then I enjoyed a lovely demonstration of the laws of physics--- in slow motion, of course--- and jarred my entire body and split my lip, creating a Jackson Pollack-ish painting in red on the floor and giving Spencer, who arrived moments after, some distinguished new grey.
Dammit! Foiled again.
So, okay. I'm still learning some things the hard way.
A couple of days of no sudden moves and pain meds, which tend to make me grumpy. Reading and on-demand movies. I tried working. I read email from a customer with a legitimate shipping complaint and I responded to her pretty much like the soup Nazi.
Add shame to the mix.
The good that came of it is that we all agreed that the artist should leave customer service to the professionals.
Now it's Saturday. I slept late, I chipped away at the looming backlog of photography. I'm still extremely sore, but my lip is pretty much normal sized. I rinse with salt water several times a day. I'm trying not to grouch at the kids. So far, so good. The "fix" holds, oddly. I still find myself able to step away and back, as I did with sun and root beer floats, so that I can forget about the bumps in the road.
What road? All these moments seem to take some other shape. It's so weird, and so human, the way we imagine ourselves on a path, traveling in a specific direction toward the future "up ahead."
I don't know what it is I stumble upon. For today, I'll be content with the stumbling. At least I'm still moving. I'll do my best to bat away any dark moods that try to sneak up on me.
There's root beer in the fridge. I checked.
Hope you have a good weekend.
