Overcrowding at the Pool

Sometimes there are just too many bodies in the pool. Not in the physical sense. I mean in the surreal sense. If I ever felt completely and utterly alone, this blog would be called “Welcome to the Oasis”. Let me explain.

Ms. Business and I worked on the Nook yesterday. Trash day is Monday, and because the weeks are about to get eaten up with All Things Work Related, I decided that it was time to rip out the 46 year old rug that’s graced the floor. Maybe covered is a better choice – there was no grace left in this animal once called a carpet. There had to be at least five pounds of dirt underneath when we flipped the sections to roll, which was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen gross. During a Saturday art class I took when I was sixteen, we went on a field trip to the labs at the University of Pittsburgh to see a body our instructor was drawing. Yup. You read that correctly. A dead body. She unzipped the body bag, picked up a piece of skin at the base of the abdomen, and said, “This is the chest cavity.” Four of us leaned in for a better look. Everyone else blanched. Ah, but I digress. The point is, I’ve seen gross, and the worst was on the floor of the Nook. Needless to say, there were several hours of cleanup involving a broom, a swifter wet mop, and a regular mop. I’m happy to say the room is now ready for the painter. I was physically exhausted, and quite glad I hadn’t gone to the gym that morning, because the room would probably not be ready!

Around 10:30 last night, after reading a little more of an essay by J.R.R. Tolkien (research), my eyelids drooping, I crawled into bed and happily snuggled deep into the mattress, wrapping up in the fleecy blanket. At 4:00 a.m. my little eyes popped open amidst the noise. The house was quiet – except for Moink, who was just going to bed. (He has his nights and days mixed up, poor kid!) No, it was the voice in my head, that darned little creative beast that keeps me wondering about the world and seeing it in an entirely new light.

I have a friend who has a name for hers – it’s Jane. Great name for the voice. I don’t know what to name mine, and of course, she often brings a friend or two. No, I’m not schizophrenic. I’m creative. We hear voices. Sometimes we listen to them; sometimes we write what they say. Well, my little muse was practically hopping up and down. “Wake up! Wake up! We should look for a big one.”

“A big one what?” She's so annoying in the middle of the night.
“Window. You know, with lots of panes so we can etch them.”

“We’ve never etched on glass.”

“Isn’t that what YouTube is for?”

I sighed and rolled over. “Go back to sleep.”

She poked me. “Let’s go look. You have to go to the bathroom, anyway.”

She was right. I did have to use the bathroom. I slid out of bed, put on my flip flops and bathrobe, and hit the bathroom. She turned on the light. Damn her! I’d never be able to go back to bed now. “Happy?” I muttered.

“Yup."

One of the other un-named voices chimed in, the one that's the most practical and logical, and definitely not my true voice. "Hey, you need to rethink the menu for this week. Let’s do the chicken and Spanakopita tonight. You’ll have to get the stuff out of the freezer.”

We did that. It’s now 5:00 a.m., and we’re sitting at the dining room table going through yesterday’s mail and rethinking the menu. There is now a small shopping list that will need to be attended to later. I put down the pen. “We should go back to bed now.”

“Let's go look at YouTube for how to etch glass. Hey, think Jane is up?”

I glanced out the front window across the street. Her house was completely dark, as it should be at five o’clock on a Sunday morning. “No. We’ll talk to her about it later this week.” Jane is an expert in all things glass in the art world. No doubt she would be thrilled to talk to me about this, but not right now. We turned on YouTube and set about watching several l-o-o-o-o-ng videos on this process. I’m no expert yet by any means, but I feel that this is something my muse and I can tackle.

It was now 7:00 a.m., and I was feeling ready to make friends with my mattress again. Another video on some unrelated craft started, and that little voice cried out excitedly. I closed the laptop and muttered “Not now,” and sent her back to bed.

But, just as we were in the process of snuggling back into the warmth of the bed, all the while trying not to awaken DH, she whispered, “We should start sketching what we want to put on those panes.” I pushed her out of the bed and closed my eyes. Not yet, not until I’ve had some coffee, and a few more hours of sleep.

So, when you ask how my summer was, I’m going to answer that it was wonderful and relaxing. I got to spend precious time with my family. I got some things done around the pool that have needed to be attended to for years. And my creative juices have started flowing again. My little muse is awake and ready to play. Am I sorry to be going back to long days in the classroom? No, because I enjoy the creativity of children, and being part of that process. 

But I will miss getting up to gentle sunlight filtering in where the blind doesn’t quite cover the window. (Like many, I get up in the dark during the school year). I will miss sitting on the back patio in the middle of the day or on a cool morning, drinking coffee and listening to the song birds that live in our backyard. And going to the bathroom when I want, not solely relying on the minute and a half provided between classes. Yet, summer will call again next year, and we will once again enjoy the blue skies and sunny days, even the stormy days, with the leisure accredited to her name.

Until then, the Stress Pool will still be up and running, and a little more true to its name. If you have some time to spare, come on down to the pool, and bring your voices. The more the merrier!