this has been my day so far.
wake up, ask scott for 20 minutes more sleep. he graciously agrees. as he's quietly trying to get some clothes out of his bottom drawer, something drops. my eyes fly open
"what is it? is it a spider?!" (i'm thinking he has surreptitiously dropped his pants on a spider so that he can quietly kill it without alarming me)
he goes into the bathroom. he grabs his toothbrush.
"it's a spider right?!!" (i'm thinking he has the dead spider in his pants and is now trying to get rid of it with me being none-the-wiser)
"there's no spider! close your eyes!"
i lie in bed for half an hour longer, trying not to think of spiders.
i get the kids off to school, journal, pray, eat breakfast, work out and shower. i think about spiders whenever i move to a new location, open anything, or adjust any objects.
i am writing this for the world to hear: i have a problem.
why? you ask...i'll tell you why. this province is crawling with friggin ginormous arachnids!!!! almost daily for the past week one has made it's appearance. last night it was in the bathroom sink when i walked in. huge. hairy. huge.
when i try to think logically (which you can probably tell, is difficult in this matter) they do appear shy. they timidly creep across the floor, or up the fireplace, or across a painting (must this be suffered?!!). i'm sure they don't want to be on my carpet, they want to be spinning a web and eating mosquitoes. which is why God made them, i tell myself. i'm thinking i should educate myself more on the beauty and marvel of spiders. i can see that there is a children's book on that precise topic sitting at the top of an unopened box in the family room. can i open the box and take out the book that has a drawing of a spider and its web gracing it's cover? no. so far, i can not.
i am telling you. i have a problem. this is not a drill.
okay, let's drop that topic. on monday, as i painted, i listened to the Mumford and Sons album in it's entirety for the first time. i know, you're wondering what musical planet i've been on - other good planets. however, i must say that these men, and supposedly their offspring, took me on an emotional roller-coaster ride. at one point i was thinking about joy, and wondering if my current joyous state transmitted somehow into the flora and fauna around me and out into the world. the next minute i was fighting back tears thinking of scott dying. up and down and around and around went my feelings and my brush. it was artistry in community. it was awesome.
i don't remember which songs brought me to the esoteric joy thoughts, but i'm pretty sure the frantic strumming and banjo picking had something to do with it. do you remember that scene from one of the matrix movies that was supposed to depict heaven or utopia or something along those lines? it was a giant dance party/orgy. people crashing against each other, an ecstasy of rhythm and skin and sexuality and pleasure. garbage! and then hell in the movie was basically the same thing, just without the earth-toned clothing and some sadist elements. both had these driving dance-bar rhythms, deep bass (unse unse unse...), and, from what i remember, a lack of melody.
heaven, in my opinion, will be like a square dance. stick with me here! i'm not a country music fan per se, but the idea of a ho down - the swirling and laughing and joyous strumming and fiddle and stomping and bowing to your partner and unified movement and harmony and teamwork. and the banjo! it sounds like heaven to my stunted gross-motor skills. in fact, it sounds like heaven to my heart as well - a giant, celebratory ceilidh (pronounced "kay-lee"), filled with health, refreshing breezes, and a laughing Christ calling out the steps.
(maybe this all stems from grade 5 when i got to be michael campbell's corner and he had to hold my hand and oh! he was so cute!! one of the very few days i remember enjoying gym class)
but, truly, feel free to bury me with a banjo playing.
in a spider-proof coffin.