Wednesday, August 17, 2011

close quarters

phew. that feels better. nice cup of tea. sorry about below little side track .but sometimes they can be pretty. those side tracks. sometimes.

i live on a hill, as you must’ve surmised by now, but have i ever told you that the trees grow at 60 degree angles, all leaning west west south west? like truffle trees from a dr zeuss book. because of the winds which throw themselves at the hill. no one has a chance of growing straight up here. not a hair, not a tree, not a blade of grass, not a heart. everything leans. even the house. screaming in from Kilimanjaro, the winds pick up extra twists and howls as they sweep past Meru and hurl and hurtle themselves at the little pink leggo house of ngorobobs with no repent. mustn’t count my eggs , But (intended), this little house has withstood earth quakes, one of which measured 6.1 on The Richter Scale.

even our hair sticks out at right angles from our heads. permanently, in a simsonesque grotesque sort of way. from facing gale force winds on a regular basis. (what a load of rubbish. utter poppycock.) still. there really is no point in having a hair style ‘round these parts. no sirree. girls just grow their hair long and let the wind have its way with it. so do boys. smelly boys. with dusty thatched rooves for hair. wriggly things live in thatched rooves. i’ve grown wary about hugging my boys for fear of being infested with their lice. oh come now. I’ve been told england’s much worse…

my heart gave way earlier today when first born actually tore himself away from The Screen, walked straight up to me and gave me a hug. for nothing!? sweet nothing! truly alarming. really. what’s he done? whilst pondering all manners of awful possibilities, i hugged him back as he nestled his head against me. what mother wouldn’t, you say. what should have been a sweet moment in anyone’s book, took a nasty turn when the rude thought that he might potentially have lice, struck like an arrow into my left temple. what was even worse, and palpitatingly, pulse-ratingly shocking, was that I remembered he’d grown tall, so his head no longer nestled on my chest, it was now absurdly level with mine and ON it.….but, hey, I held that hug as long as he was giving one to me. my boy. and that takes guts man. so does love.

you see, these lice aren’t normal lice, i assure you. we’ve been well acquainted, to put it politely, over the years (she embarrassingly confesses). they are hardy little bastards. they laugh and get drunk on tea tree oil and stoned on anything stronger. they’re tough, back stabbing little addicts and don’t give a shit about anything except breeding, eating and partying.

“ oh, but haven’t you used the lice comb?” i hear you smugly chortle.

“but i have!” i shoot back, looking you straight in the eyes because i’m telling the truth. i’ll have you know, they’ve become exceedingly cunning over the years, learning, with Houdini dexterity, to slip through the pin thin gaps of the lice comb teeth. i should harvest the eggs and make mini omlettes in the morning then, in little mini frying pans on little mini fires. at least i’d be getting something back, after the liters of olive oil i’ve chucked on childrens’ heads. you know, lice HATE oily heads. well. not these ones. they use it for their dandruff fry ups. i’m sure of it.

damian and i always argue about who is exposed to the strongest wind. i was going to write “suffers” but the wind is sometimes exciting, maddening, insane, wild, beautiful. not a thing to be suffered. he, naturally, reckons he does. because the wind determinedly, he conjectures, squeezes and compresses itself through the little valley between the hills and smashes into their house. i disagree. naturally. and even more fervently since t told me about the Wendigo….google it. this is his playground. with these winds? if the Wendigo whirls by, you’re in BIG trouble. he will appear to you as your worst fears. since chatting with t, i reckon he’s been around here before, but left smartly and furiously because of the dust or lice or something. thank christ for those pesky little mites then.

you see? there’re always two ways of lookin’ at somet’in’, ain’t it?

Kitchen Board: Wednes The Day The Bakers Got Back From Turkey day 17 August 2011.

toodely toot, y'all. if you happen to swing by, wear a swimming cap. bisous. X. X.X. lots and lots of little ones, just behind yer ears. x j


Miranda said...

Heh! Great post. I think ifwhen we build on our hill WE"LL get the worst winds. Surely enough for a windmill with all this effing power cuts?

Fantastic picture.

Nooooo to the lice, nooooooo!

JoeinVegas said...

We have winds too - all of our trees are leaning, but at different angles around the house. Sounds like you get so much more

fushandchips said...

I loved this. Loving, heartfelt, and funny (lice cooking dandruff omelettes).

Janelle said...

oh mo, y'all will definitely get winds down there on yer hill...for sure. put up the windmills. joe your comment made me feel a little silly writing so much about the winds...well. they CAN get strong, ya know? thanks for swingin' by! and thanks fush. 'we aim to please'. hah. x j

elizabeth said...

Wonderful thoughts on the growing son.
I remember my son's joy when he was able to pick me up!
How the tables turn.

Wind is wonderful, if not too much of it.
In Cornwall there are lots of blasted trees leaning.

Raining again here. Thinking of building ark. Have 2 dogs to start with and countless ants trailing through....

Sherry O'Keefe said...

both east and west of here, the highway was built with gates that can be closed when the wind blows.

next your head will just reach your first born's chest. oy, life....


Janelle said...

oh elizabeth, please blow that rain this way....desperate...awful...! i love cornwall. thanks for swinging by. x j
sherry, i LOVE that! that gates can be closed when the wind perfect! thanks for commenting! x j

Karen said...

I've got a splitting headache & can't do anything but I can catch up on blog-reading, and I love yours.

A few summers ago my boy gave me lice; it was awful. My hair is almost all the way down my back. But yes, a mama can't pass up one of those tall-boy hugs! (who knows when the next one will be around...)

Sending hugs from the states--Ohio, to be specific.


Mud said...

Gorgeous as always - a breath of fresh air in a hot and humid life!

(Hope your toilet's stopped leaking...)


Just Another Savage! said...

Man I hear you always. Love those hugs myself, new 4 month old Grand daughter, Ava Frances. Looking forward to many from her. Been covered up here with work. Back to Moz. Oct-Nov. hope you all can come down sometime. Just wanted to say never stop that wonderful flow you got.

Mark said...

Great B/W shot of your offspring. Looks to be a formidable landscape, spines on those bushes appear to be 6 inches long. Easliy mistaken for claws of the Wendigo. :) Scary looking thing btw.