. Spinning .

Today I look at clouds and see clouds.  And I notice I am no longer hungry.

A touch of food poisoning most likely.  The last time that we went there I left him sitting at the table and stood outside.  We laughed when we went in, remembering almost fifteen years ago.  We’ve gone elsewhere for Mexican since because we love it.  This time, I made it until the next day.

Sixteen hours in bed, three spoonfuls of soup.  Headachey today, but the stomach’s better.  Can take a lot of pain.  Nausea drives me over the edge though.  Twelve hours of sleep and four of thinking.  Wanting to die but knowing this will pass.  And then, where do I go from here?  Restarting life on an empty stomach, must get rid of the mess inside my brain as well. 

"It’s never too late…" doesn’t hold water anymore.  Not in these days, these times.  What I want is unattainable–really, it is.  Maybe though, the learning stays with the spirit.  Maybe it will just take a few more lifetimes to achieve.  Some sort of happiness and content is all I need to seek this time.

I need to retreat back to my morning bed.  The day is beating me physically with illness, emotionally with rejection, psychologically with doubt.  I need to hide from words just as cold winds.  Either does me damage now, low and weak and just plain feeling bad.

Cool today, both I and breaking day.  I think I have sucked everything out of mornings here, left nothing to inspire.

I close the back door and go inside, murmuring absently as I move away.  I have been here, and here, and here and here.

Do kids still lick Cheerios and stick them together to make cars and crosses and little people?  Or Puffed Rice and stick them to their teeth?  Do they wet an m&m on their tongue to paint their lips?  The red ones were the best, but I haven’t tried the new blue.

Do they bury dolls, and crushed butterflies in matchboxes?  Do they know the taste of dianthus blooms–they’re minty, or the sourness of the pretty pink azalea?  Can they fool their sister with a glued on extra leaf to make a four-leafed clover, or have they hidden out of mother’s view to build a little fire to roast some grapes?  Shoot tiny pine cones out of rifles when all the corks are lost, or pick the violets in April for the Blessed Virgin Mary and their moms?  Or blown up magnolia petals into tiny balloons, or eaten sourgrass?  My sister told me once that sourgrass only grew where rabbits pissed.

It would be sad to think these things are lost in history, untold and unrepeated acts and stories. 

Am admittedly not as up on technology as I once was when building computers, but I don’t think there is–and if not, there should be–a cooling system for laps when using laptops. 

What was cozily acceptable in winter, I can see now will be an extreme annoyance in summer, despite air conditioning.  The laptop gets hot.  I imagine a gel cushion of some sort that conforms to the shape of the upper thighs while providing a level platform for the computer.  The cooling system may be one that draws the heat away from the computer while protecting the lap and of course, would not damage the laptop components and perhaps be useful to it as a cooling agent to it as well.  I’m thinking along the lines of those freezer-packs for instant relief of injuries…

Someone could make a fortune here.