On election night, while I was trying very hard not to focus on returns and still stay positive, there was a helluva crash from the glorified closet where the washer and dryer live. I don't have a laundry room, and I don't mind, because most of my 1400+ square foot condo is devoted to actual living space. No McMansion laundry area here, the washer/dryer live behind bifold doors with two shelves above. For some reason Ellie decided that she'd like to visit those shelves on Tuesday and it ended badly, with a huge crash and stuff falling and she was under the bed for an hour and will never do that again. And I picked up the visible things and didn't think much of it, until Wednesday.
Wednesday was not a good day. See profanity laden screed below. But I needed to do a small load of laundry, and was about to throw these items (like new Target jammies, because I'm definitely not rich) into the top load washer when I noticed shiny things. All over the machine's floor. In Ellie's exploration of the shelves, she'd knocked down one of those plastic clamshell kind of containers of small picture hanging nails, and about 200 of them landed in my washing machine. The tub of my washing machine was essentially full of shrapnel that would destroy anything it touched and kill the machine on the way out. I'm grateful that I saw it and didn't just dump an armload of stuff in on top and blithely turn it on.
And I stood there, staring at the tiny nails, taking deep breaths. And I didn't freak out. I grabbed a couple of kitchen magnets, found one that efficiently fit the shape of the washer's tub, and patiently, very patiently, collected a bazillion tiny nails, and ran a cycle of water through just in case, and then felt save to wash my clothes again.
Tonight she got into my knitting and made me drop two rows in the middle of a freaking afghan. I patiently unknit and reknit a couple of hundred stitches, and am now moving forward.
The last two days are the first times Ellie has ever actively made me fix anything she did. She's pretty much a feline saint otherwise, but somehow now she forced me to take a breath, find my calm, find a solution, and fix things.
Yeah, I think she's in my life for a reason. But I'm still not ready to make nice. I just have a model for moving forward.
6 comments:
Well, now that's handy, having your very own furry Mindfulness lesson. I've been reading lots of that very sentiment, "let's take a breath, acknowledge the many reasons this happened, and fix things." It's all we can do, really.
This morning you blog is just what I needed. Thank you. Give Ellie an extra pat form me.
Genie
In case you're interested--the evil Walmart has blue jammy pants with Boston Terriers on them! They're slightly Christmas, but you can get away with wearing them other times and no one would really notice.
Glad you're feeling a bit better. I've decided to ignore the news for a while....
I made my own jammie pants with Boston Terriers on them. (I bought the flannel at JoAnn, which is kind of evil in it's own right.) I went to Stitches Midwest last August, and one of the activities was a pajama party. The pants are aqua and the BTs are wearing their own jammies.
Ellie. You dont need to Google "therapist near me" with her around! And her rates are much cheaper. After being physically sick for acouple of days (on top of shingles pain and a cold), I have loaded my iPad with light reading, and am sewing. Not reading any news if I can avoid it. (I dont have TV, to keep my blood pressure down. I've already had one stroke. ). Now I just have to do that for four more years.
Kimmen
My nightgown has almost totally white BT's on it, if we're comparing jammies.
I notice people are being very respectful of that whole "oh god I can't talk about it" thing. I'm in my artcave every night. It's not helping much, but I'm doing things.
k
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