Hush

So, we've had a family of hawks move into the woods behind our house, it could be a commune or gang, but it's a pretty sizable group. They appear to be various ages, adults, younger adults and babies. They all make the cry that ends up in every dessert scene ever in a movie, which makes me laugh each time, which has me laughing all day because they are very noisy and active.
Early yesterday morning I was letting Griffin out and saw some bunnies right by the house out in the open. I was watching them, looked up and out to see that they were also. So as the rabbits started away from my sight, I went out after them to give them the heads up that breakfast was them; I came around some hedges only to find them out in the open again, but this time they were having relations. The first bird of prey was a few feet away and I'm assuming my waving arms and shrill sound directed it elsewhere. The cottontails hadn't even noticed their impending doom, they were as happy, well, as two rabbits fucking.

Look all around

I did a little inventory on the way into work today, reflected on some of the things that appear to be recurring. A lifetime, if you will, of repetitive thoughts and behaviors. The actual genesis of the memory came when I was thinking about how we've moved a few times in the last ten years and how that has affected the boys. Actually they are not boys anymore. Gus is 18 today, and therefore I have two adult children.
I'd love to be able to tell them that now that they are adults, things will become more clear and the path will be laid out before them. Alas, and it should be obvious, none of that has been the case for their father or I. We are both continually struggling with identity and figuring out how to manage ourselves and our family. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing to have to continually reassess. I like that we develop as individuals and that coincides with our relationship. But, how much do we need to grow and when is it going to stop.

Waiting for it all day

Eamon and I took Gus to Columbus this week to take care of some of the finer details that needed to be done in person regarding school and employment.
We waited as he took care of his job stuff, filling out papers and such. Then, he needed to find his advisor in order to change a course that he had signed up for but tested out of.
He argued with me about how she wasn't there and he didn't know how to find her. We were in the lobby of a lab building that he had been directed to previously, so I knew that if he would just cooperate, he would at least find someone who could help him, or give him some guidance.
This is an all glass, high ceiling lobby, I could hear how his hissing at me and sharp tone probably could be listened to from every floor. Normally I would aquiess and let him skip it, but we were there and I felt like if he could just take that additional step, he could resolve the problem. Reluctantly, he went upstairs and about twenty minutes later came down with a a sheepish grin on his face. The first door he had come to, was her "other" office and he resolved all the issues that were pending in order for him to register.
Finally, he said to me, "You win mom." That is honestly how he saw it. Like it was a victory for me rather than him getting done what needed to be. Oh, watch as a I bask in the glory of getting my child to function properly.

I can't be

Last night, Eamon and I went out together for our anniversary. Part of that experience was us going to see some bands, one of which I have some friends in. We went to dinner and Eamon tried unsuccessfully to talk his way out of going on to the club. He claimed that the lightning in the distance looked like it would lead to a violent electrical storm, and that we were going to a shit neighborhood; and various other attempts to sway me. After the waitress had agreed to giving me a mojito to go, there was nary a chance in me allowing for any buzz kill, we were going and we were going to have fun.
We did and we did. Some of Eamon's friends were there as well, they were sitting at a large round table and he joined them, as his back hurt. I stayed standing and also walked around to talk to other people. A few times I looked over and he was engaged in a conversation with the woman sitting next to him, whom I did not know. Awhile later, I returned and sat down on his lap for a moment. That startled the people at the table, I suspect because they hadn't met me and were talking to him and all of a sudden he had a woman in his lap.
This morning as I was reflecting on the evening, I realized that my move had been primal. In a sense, I was marking my territory. It was not a conscious effort on my part, but obviously something internal had kicked in to make me behave thusly.

As the rain flows

I've been on the verge of tears, crying or thinking about crying for the last two weeks. A lot more happened at Hershey than rides and chocolate fun.
I have been trying to find the kernel, if there is one, or the basis for some of the characteristics that I have managed, but really don't want anymore. They may have served a purpose at some juncture in my life, but as most of us do, I have come to a point where I'm ready to shed what I can and move out of this place; and I don't mean physically.
I was helped with a meditative process to find some of the origins for the sorts of things that stick with us even when we have no use for them. It's not an easy task for either the guide or the person trying to overcome a lifetime of unease, it's comfortable and hard to let go of what has ridden along with you for most of the trip. But, at some point it has to be done. You may not unload all of it, and some may sneak back into the darker corners, but identifying and separating what works and what doesn't is a monumental start to the glories of midlife.

Maybe I'm just too naive

I was the equivalent of a library bouncer this morning, because at the last book sale, someone pushed ahead on the stairs and a person ended up falling down. It's a pretty desperate situation and I think the dynamic can be changed with a greeting or acknowledgment as people are rushing in, for just enough of them, it kind of stops the momentum of the event long enough to give pause. And, for others, they don't even have a glimmer of interest in anything but being first.

When I grew up, my Grandmother and I would meet at least a couple of Saturdays a month for lunch or an outing. This started when I was quite young and lasted until soon before she died. I remember when I was in college, some of my friends making fun of me because she had bought the second Prince album for me and they thought she had gone to the store and picked it out as opposed to the reality which was she asked me what I wanted, and that was it. I never felt compelled to address their misunderstanding because it just made her look ever cooler than she was.

That thin disguise

Last evening as I was starting my work day, a couple came over to me and told me there was a baby rabbit in the building. I thought they meant one that was hopping around, but it was actually in a cardboard box from a pet store. It was sleeping on a bed of artificial grass and next to the box was a little baby bottle half full of milk.
I looked around for a few minutes and then made an announcement about the person who left the petcare box needing to come to the information desk.
All to no avail, this bunny was ditched at the library. All I have to say, is good thing it wasn't newborn baby, because we really have no protocol whatsoever for this type of thing. One of the people I work with ended up bringing it somewhere, I don't know if that meant a place where it would be nurtured and fed until adulthood or to a wooded area where it probably wouldn't survive. But what I do know is that the person who left it for us to have to be responsible for making that choice is an oaf.
I could see maybe leaving it at a police station or even a pet store, but a library, what are we going to do with it, read it a nice Beatrix Potter tale?

About us anyway

It's been a long time since anyone has felt me up through my clothes, but today at the airport seemed right. I was dropping off Jack for his trip out west, and because he is still young and even younger looking, they let me walk him to the gate. And because TSA, whose employees are trained by a company the Cheney has an enormous stake in, found that my overall dress was a good place to conceal a WMD, they decided that they would have to check the goods.
Let's just say that they are a very thorough organization, I just yearned for some lower lights and perhaps some music.
Speaking of music, as we were hanging out in Hershey park this week, I have to mention that the music is played very loud, and midday, I discovered why that probably is. We were sitting around and I looked over at the Kettle Corn stand and noticed a pretty sizable amount of KC on the ground. There were however no birds . It was just freaky. I cannot think of an environment anywhere that when there is food on the ground, lots of people and cars aplenty, where there was a lack of birds. Charvez deduced that it was the ultrasonics behind the music making it thus. In some ways, it's a welcome change but in others it seems so freakishly unnatural and eerie that it was like the movie The Birds, but without them.