The absolutely most essential thing in this cottage to keep Mama on track and not swinging from the rafters and having the pugs all running to set up the caffeine IV:
THE LATTE THE SIZE OF TEXAS!
Oh yea baby, oh yea, and don't come close to me before I've finished it. You'll be able to tell because my 1" hair will be standing straight up, my eyebrows will be singed, my eyes will be the size of dinner plates and kind of rolling around in my head, and, at the same time, a peace and calm will come over me which makes me able to face one more day. I live from latte to latte. We all have our stuff.
Sssssshhhhhh, WHISPER, It will take me a good 45 minutes to get through the foam and I can't stand loud (meaning anything above a whisper which I'd just as soon ignore anyway...) voices early in the morning. Then I'll do backstrokes in the latte between sips and by noon I should be approaching something like human, well, as close as I ever get. Ah, the morning latte, there's nothing like it.
So, I just thought I'd ramble on here a little because I want to stay closer in touch and sometimes all we have are the mundane moments of our lives which to me are sacred and downright fascinating when I'm listening to someone else's. They're going "Yadda, yadda, yadda... nothing important ... yadda yadda yadda, you must be so bored .... yadda yadda yadda..." And I'm thinking "WOW, now THAT'S an exciting life!" We never realize the power of our own lives. Please share yours, it makes us all feel a lot better!
Okay, brace yourself, this is liable to be so wildly exciting it will wear you plum out, as my little old aunties used to say. Are you ready..
Sometime between 6 & 7:
* 4 pugs are bouncing wildly all over my body. Baby Tanner is dropping sloppy nasty toys in my face -- his love gift of the morning -- wee tiny Penny which everyone thinks is shy and retiring leaps forward, covers my face with tiny kisses and then lunges forward and grabs my nose. Not hard. Kinda cute. She's usually the one who sounds the alarm to "GET UP EVERYBODY!" She is our resident drill Sargent. Sam just wants love and squeezing and shy little Pugsley sidles up for some loves and kisses and a good tummy rub.
Once all the various and sundry puggerlings are herded down the hall and through the kitchen, the cozy room, and out the studio door onto the deck and out into the big wide world (the back yard) they run and bark and frolic and do their business and I wave my caftan around wildly in a frightening looking dance which is only really me trying not to get more than 50 or so mosquito bites. I come in and douse myself so heavily with white vinegar -- which is marvelous to make the bites go away - but I smell like an Italian salad all day long. I buy the vinegar by the gallons and fill big spray bottles. My back yard is gorgeous and heavily treed and runs down to a creek. My privacy fence stops before it gets that far so the pugs don't float downstream, but living in the woods on a creek here where the temps are over 100 most of the summer and humidity so bad that the minute you walk outside your glasses fog up and you are likely to run into a tree, the mosquitoes are fearsome. Ah the joys of living in a coastal region, as if the hurricanes weren't reason enough.
Then the morning gets very busy and complex...
1. Dogs out and in
2. Feed 4 parrots in front room and get them fresh water and turn on lights and public radio and give them all lots of kisses. I hand-raised all 4 of these parrots some 15 or more years ago and, of course, being my parrots, they are the biggest kissin' fools you ever did see. They are also very cultured parrots listening to NPR all day and I donate to the local public radio station just to keep us all sounding half way intelligent.
3. Into Miss Scarlet the grey parrot who lives in my studio and who comes out of her cage early morning when we get up and is out all day long, 3 feet away from me at my desk here. She is just a SMASHING kisser so she fits right in. She gets her fresh seed, pellets, freshly baked birdie bread, and water and new toys nearly weekly. Poor thing has a rough life.
4. By now the dogs are frantic so we go through the routine of giving everyone vitamins, pills, eye drops (2 dogs -- different drops, 3 get different pills, at least 2 each) and then the food which is a very high quality food, with a teaspoon of fish oil with omega 3's and a dollop of canned dog food. I use "Blue Buffalo" everything for the 3 boy pugs but Penny has allergies so she is on special food. During the preparing of this I have 4 pugs screaming and one crying like a baby, practically doing back-flips and howling so pitifully I'm surprised the police haven't been called by the neighbors. By the time all of their food is served up and they are eating I kind of slump against the counter and wonder how I made it this far. But of course I always do.
5. THEN --- and this is VERY important -- the minute they are finished eating and I can tear them away from licking each other's empty bowls, SURE that somepuggyorother got something THEY didn't, I corral the boys and out we go again. Penny does all of her business, lady-like, before breakfast and is good for awhile. I swear, boy dogs can go to the potty 15 places all over the yard and then have breakfast 15 minutes later and if I don't hustle them out they will pee in various places all around the kitchen and my studio. This does not make Mama happy. So I do the "Let's Go OUT and PEE" song and dance which they know I take very seriously and, shrugging and not looking happy about it, they go out and I swear, Pugsley will -- having already gone to the bathroom 15 minutes of so before -- stand there and pee non-stop practically to nightfall. I will never understand this.
FINALLY, with all of the animals cared for -- the dogs have now snuggled back in their beds -- I go in to make my coffee. 1 to 1 1/2 hours after my foot hits the floor first thing, I finally get the coffee going, and by then my eyes are hanging out of my head dangling about in a frightening sort of way.
Having read about my recent debacles here at the cottage (You saw the picture of the hole in the ceiling a few entries back?) the man who sprays the "Popcorn" on the ceiling over the drywall that is now dried will be here in an hour. I may have to make another latte or 3 before he gets here. Having people in the house -- the nicest people in the world -- unnerves me no end. This "2 1/2 Day Job" that was quoted and is now in it's 5th week has me as limp as a dishrag. Saturday the carpet gets fixed. Then they will send someone out to clean it. THEN the 15 inches of "green" insulation will be blown in which should have been done but when people go falling through your attic into your living room leaving a whole the size of a large man it kind of puts a damper on things. 6 weeks or so after the "2 1/2 Days" all should be done.
Meanwhile I am working on my book and getting ready for my teleclass with SARK tonight. I sent her the 2nd piece of my writing on Monday for evaluation. It's very exciting and moving forward with my writing is doing me a world of good. I've had a lot of discussion now about the conundrum a lot of us face ("Am I Spending So Much Time On My Blog I Am Using Up My Writing Energy."). There's a lot about that that I have come to and will write sometime in the next few days.
So with the popcorn ceiling man on the way and needing to gulp my latte down as fast as I can so that I can meet him appearing something towards human I will stop here. I just wanted to say Heidy-Ho and How You Doin'? and if you have trouble getting going in the morning get a bunch of parrots and pugs and then make lattes the size of some large geographical area and you'll probably make it just fine.
(I just looked in the mirror -- always a mistake this early -- and my hair is indeed standing straight up and my eyes the size of car tires. I hope I don't send the Popcorn Ceiling Guy screaming down the street....)
Here I go to do a few last laps in my latte cup. The backstroke, I think...