Green Frog Cafe

"Living in nature, listening to the rain, Green Frog Cafe, that's where I want to be. The hemlocks are green, the creek is tricklin, there's geese on the pond, the forest sighs. Green Frog Cafe that's where I want to be, home of my soul, spirit of the mountains." Ruminations of Rhona McMahan

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

Monologues at the Green Frog Cafe

As a confirmed member of the early majority my intuition tells me that it is time for me to create a blog. I have been an inveterate writer of journals for the past 44 years, so this is really just a change of medium. Some of my children have blogs, which are hilarious to me, but which open my eyes to the fact that they are skating somewhere on the edge of sanity. I could never rise to the levels of the humorous writing which appears in all the blogs I have seen, but my purpose here is simply to achieve the peace which sometimes comes by writing things down.

What is going on today? I have achieved a visit to the podiatrist, who at the end of the treatment blew air kisses at my feet, saying that they are beautiful. He is a wonderful podiatrist, I recommend him to everyone. He is paying the parking ticket I got while in his office. Next I walked all three dogs with Chelsea, came back to the house, and moved the drawers from a chest of drawers back upstairs from the middle of the living room floor. We are renovating a second room, adding to the clutter we already had due to the bathroom renovation on which I have been working for several months. Then Jamie called from Gallae Central House with word on Musa. Musa may or may not return, but Chelsea is not anxious to have her back, which is a bad sign for a fragile person such as Musa. Now the morning mail has arrived, with a form letter from Scott Cohen, President of Tulane University, telling me that Tulane will cost $39,125 for Colin's last year. And the day is just warming up. Now it is time to pay household bills.

Aaarrrgh. It has been so hot lately that the flowers are wilting. Celia says there is something in the air which is killing all the plants. Our fig tree, and the one next door, seem to have died. Que azar. Even the garaniums and the pachasandra is going.

I am becoming accustomed to Red Boots Soria as a name concept. I think of him dancing in his mother's belly.

I know that I am under deep psychological pressure right now because I have a lot of self-destructive urges. It is a major battle to force myself to keep on schedule with all the things going on. On top of everything, I have a book prospectus due in two weeks, and I have to organize the panel I will chair in Stockholm on July 10 (the day my father died, and the year (and day??) Sylvia was born). And Chelsea is still dancing around the go/no go decision on going to Stockholm with me. It's as if I am torturing her by offering an all expenses paid trip to Sweden.

The psychic called yesterday and said that her research showed that someone related to me is overseas, and is an evil influence in the lives of Chelsea and me. She said that our house needed to be cleansed. She asked me to tell her how many doors and windows we have because she had to prepare the proper cleansing agent. She said that we could do it ouselves under her instructions for only $350, but for her to do it properly would be $500. I offered her $50 maximum, and we parted company. So now I may have offended the spirit world (yet again?). She is convinced that our house is full of conflicting spirits. Well DA!! The place is a 100 years old, even without considering the large number of recent residents passing through with assorted spells, saints, spirits, and hexes. Em compensacao, Yemanja is her long blue gown stands serene on her alter, which is unfortunately right next to the open flowing sewer on the lower level of our house.

Today I must muck out the catch basis and replu the sewer line. I also should go to Ghetto Nails for a nail revamping and eyebrow waxing.


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