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this limbo that has become my walk on this planet has had some interesting flashbacks in the past few rounds of the clock. after expending as much energy as possible on my first few days"home", Saturday was an exercise in escape. the original intention was to find a back way to the cheap swedish furniture store (OK, i meanIKEA). since my navigator couldn't find where we were on the map at a given time, we never got close. instead, we wound up close to where i work... and that just wouldn't do. instead of wasting the trip, i took care of some business... blank CDs, a new ceiling fan... things that could've been done lots closer to home. punctuated with an expedition through colonial period towns on the way back. extreme northern Virginia, near the West VA/Pennsylvania border... as close as you can get to the flavor of northern england. complete with horse farms, slave-built stone walls, Mercedes' and more upper class white people than you could shake the proverbial stick at. beautiful, and nightmarish. later, relaxing to the brainwashing of the tv, the local news ran a blurb for an upcoming story about bedbugs (a slow news day, perhaps?)... the newscaster goofily reading the old adage from the teleprompter, "don't let the bedbugs bite." when i was a child, there was something about that saying that horrified me to the core. not because bugs grossed me out that much... but somehow, whenever i hear this said i would have the most incredible nightmares that night. not about bugs, but much worse things. apocalyptic things. no nightmares this time, though. just a truly bizarre daytime experience, the next day. with my mother's failing health, she asks for help around the house quite often... Sunday, begging for a patch of ground to be tilled up for some tomato plants. miraculously, the briggs-and-stratton fired up on the first pull (after sitting dormant for a year), and i got to the sweating part. midway through a particularly hard-packed section, up arose from the clay two of my grandmothers' old boots. i should say, "galoshes" or overboots... that she would wear over her slippers on the juiciest of days. why they would be buried out in the yard, i had no idea. one red one, one translucent one. she wasn't the type to throw things out in the yard, either. nightmares mutate into mindfuck for me, these days. |
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