This week has been tooooooooo long

I do not want a week, even remotely close, repeat. A run to the hospital for the daughter, making sure it is heartburn and not more (this on Sunday evening). Monday at work does not go well: no computer wants to work for me, or the site. Then coming home to a kitchen not clean and no supper ready. Tuesday is running from doctor to doctor, and still no clean kitchen. Wednesday, classes appear to be going well, but I am worn from the first two days and feel like I will not make it through, and don't, when I find my kitchen still not clean (well, except for the stove), and Will taken to the hospital for a returning ear infection. Ginny and I go out to eat. I actually do not have the funds to do this, but we need to eat. We go to Applebee's. Salads. Her friends come by, whisk her away to a night of movies. She, or a friend, is supposed to call me, telling me when she will be home. No call. I start calling at 2 am. Yes, I stayed up; I don't like being woke up after a few hours a sleep; it makes sleeping difficult after that. At 3 am, she answers. "Phone was dying; charging. We are watching a movie. I don't know when." Tell her to call when she leaves. The call comes, when she is half way home. I tell her to call when she is in the drive, this way the dogs won't park from her knocking. You are asking why she doesn't have a key: ex-fiance took it, or lost it, and I haven't replaced it--locks need to be changed. She doesn't call; now the dog's are all barking. Will is sleeping on the couch. He had a hard time sleeping because of his cold. He is stirring, but stays asleep. All quiet again. Gin cannot sleep due to the heartburn. Will wakes up from coughing; he cannot have another dose of medicine. Some noise begins outside, but do not know what it is. I cannot sleep. Once asleep, about 5am, after Will has fallen back to sleep, after a diaper change, after changing position on the couch with him, the phone rings at 6:30am. NOOOOOO. Answer, deal, back to bed. The phone rings again, 20 minutes later. Answer, deal, back to bed. Now the dogs are ready to go out at 7:30am. I shut one in the room with Ginny (hers), and the others in the kitchen. I refuse to deal. Will is up at 9am. I am now ill.

Seventh Sketch

Yes, I forgot yesterday! I thought about it. Wasn't feeling well, and just forgot. So here is yesterdays. Today's post will come a little later.

Being Lazy Sketch

Thursday, I awoke to a scratchy throat, to a headache, to eyes swollen from both lack of sleep and sinuses. I can smell a pool full of chlorine each time I breathe in. What is this? Why? Today I will not work, will not put in my 6 to 7 hours of students' work. I feel guilty, but do not care. My day will be about me, will be lazy. My kitchen is not clean; it calls to me. I do not care; besides, the person assigned the chore did not do the work on Monday. I clean what I need and am done. I am tired. I do not go back to sleep. I am bored. I will not read from the papers. Instead, I sit in front of the computer, look at post with pictures--I do not read, except the message with larger letters in messenger. I have a few good conversations. I know I must motivate myself. I will not. I do not run the sweeper, my granddaughter does, who has been dropped off after a doctors appointment. She cannot stand the dog hair and dandruff on the hardwood floor. She does an amazing job. I hug her. She puts in Mama Mia. Good. I cn taek this sound.

Midday, my spirits are lifted. I attempt to read. I cannot focus. I don't want to. I don't care. Is it right? I don't care. I stay in pajamas until three, four. I talk to Sam while he talks to Gin, we have some good laughs and some serious discussions: all good. Music is great. I don't care about getting anything done!

Sketch six, but you guys get an extra that I couldn't post to my other blog site

I know, I know, I know. I need another sketch! I've been pondering this all day. I thought I knew the sketch I wanted to do, but now find that I don't want to share it. Why you ask? Some of it is a little more than I want to have explored on this blog site.

In front of me sits a Spanish / English, English / Spanish Dictionary that is often useless. The orange block on top of the yellow block holds two different languages. The orange block holds black lettering in English, as I have given the title. The yellow block has red lettering in Spanish: El New World, Diccionario, Espanol / Ingles Ingles / Espanol. The thickness is the old fashion standard of a novel. And with that thickness comes a lack of knowledge, missing verb tenses because supposedly a person should know the root word. Many mornings, as a ritual, I sit at this same computer, in front of the screen, preparing a statement in Spanish to a friend who speaks it fluently. This is my way to learn Spanish, which is made difficult by the lacking dictionary. Sam is kind, he does not laugh at me, and shares his knowledge. How could learning another language be made more simple? I ask the dictionary every morning when I look upon its pages, "Why do you not have all the forms listed under each form, allowing me to look up all the tenses with explanation. Even explanations are missing. Dictionaries that are of two languages need to have explanations, to explain. Yes, the book would be that much thicker, but do I care as a person learning a new language? NO.

Almost a worthless sketch, but at least I put something down. Something is better than nothing.

The Mind Sketch

I have no ideas. My mind saying boring, nope boring, and wanting to write a story. Guess what? There is not time for a story in the thirty minutes I allot myself Monday through Thursday. A sketch of my mind? The ramblings of life, of confusion, of children, of teaching, of my wants? Wants? What are those? Are they needs? This isn't a sketch of my mind is it? Chocolate on chocolate. There is this door I want to open but I fear what will happen; disapproval from family, friends, society in general. All are having trouble with the fact I have to move to have a better job because good jobs do not exists here, up here in Fort Wayne, the Fortanywherebuthere living. Do I even want this sketch known? Pour it hot and quick, down my breast. Fear. It holds me back sometimes. Edging into a situation lessens it. Originally I had "lessons," why? The lessons I have learned, the lessons I have taught, the lessons I have watched have all led me to here. I see a window in this door. A peek in tells me I will like what there is, I like making this decision, but I can't have it yet. The chocolate cannot be licked up, or down, can't even be wiped off, it can only run and run, drip away slowly--there is no one there to care for it. Still, it is hard to make change, and it will be difficult for those near me. Once again I will need to edge through, and this time for others. Should I? Do I need to do this for others as well? Am I responsible for this? The other door must come first, the door that is more tedious and time consuming--the job, the move. Decisions have been made about an area, an area more teaming with opportunities, and an area I have fallen in love with as I have searched over the year. With this job is also, maybe, taking on my PhD. Away from everyone I can be more in the right position than I ever have been. My children grown, it is time to fly. That door with the window looks good; I want someone to care for that dripping chocolate.

Sketch Five

Applebee’s

    The day starts early in the morning, the bed not yet slept in for either gal who had walked into the restaurant. Applebee’s salad dishes sit upon a table, empty, while two gals await the desert of three scoops of ice cream upon a large chocolate-chip cookie, whip cream piled in swirls around the stack, each pile decorated with crushed Oreos, the whole dish crisscrossed and swirled with chocolate syrup. Little is said between the two. It doesn’t matter if any words are said, the night hasn’t ended and they are meeting the new day in style. The desert comes. If it was true that eyes could pop out of your head, theirs would. Together “Oh my” escapes, and the older adds, “We won't be able to eat this all.” They dip a spoon each into the fluff first, smiling, moaning as women sexually charged. Each scoop is savored until a serving is left. EAch have eaten a serving and a half each. They can go no further. They are filled, delighted, perked for the long morning before their heads hit the pillow.

Waiting Outside a CVS/pharmacy

    Night sounds at a CVS/pharmacy are unseen. A voice that cannot be seen echoes against the wall I am staring at. A rattle, like a skateboarder, sounds, but no skateboarder. A shout out of Camel Menthol enters the opening door to be shut off quickly at its closing. A motorcycle chitty chitty bang bangs by, a putting image of one light riding across my review mirror. Thirty-five minutes to wait on medicine drowns the eyes to sleep. It isn’t late late, but late enough; 9:25 feels like midnight on five hours of sleep. Two headlights cause as much noise as the engines coming on or the car driving by at 35 mph--supposedly. The doors to CVS open and close with medical emergency, like the cart being wheels through sliding emergency doors. My ears hurt as much as my eyes; my ears wish to sleep as badly as my eyes. Don’t talk so loudly I think, even though I can hear to words. Only five minutes have passed; there’s another fifteen to go.

If you have not already . . .

please add my other blog, which is solely for the purpose of my art, lukiaskywritingtobefree.blogspot.com.

Much appreciated!

Third Sketch

    She stands in a candlelit dance studio, lightening dancing through the sky. She is only in her skin colored, low-heeled dance shoes. The butterfly wings were completed but two hours ago, butterfly wings that have taken a little more than a year to complete. She has made herself madam butterfly. The wings begin at her ankles: the curl of the wing wraps around the ankle bone and rolls to the back of the leg, flaring slowly out with small jagged, caressing, edges. Those edges smoothly jet to the sides, but never completely around the leg, the outline of the design just visible to a person who may stand directly in front of her. At the back of the knee, the wing widens more, little do the jagged edges appear as the wing caresses into the curve of her inner and outer thigh, but never reaching the front of the leg. Upon reaching the buttocks, the division of the wings begin to meet between the each individual cheek, the coloring of the wings are a marbled-lining of deep blue hinted with silver, a light turquoise, and the deep blue of a lavender flower to this point. The colors become more defined upon the cheeks of the buttocks, as well as blending into each other more precisely into a pattern of chaos, of memorizing tranquility. Only if she leans over can a person witness the separation of the wings. At the bottom of the buttocks the wing wraps toward the front as it does from the top of the buttocks, taking in the entire hip, narrowing as the lower wing travels to just below the navel. The colors once again take on the pattern of marbling. The wing loops below the navel into the opposite lower wing, an intricate gathering that makes a low lined “V.” The upper wing begins above the navel.
    Just as the lower wings connect, the upper do as well, the “V” turned opening down. A diamond, laying on its side, encases the navel. Each wing pulls back in its elegant, intricate entanglement. Just a small area of the lower wing is hidden as the upper wing begins to widen. The top of the wing reaches the first two lower ribs before wrapping around the side to the back. The colors continue as they did before and after the buttocks, reaching around to the back, slowly edging up the shoulder, becoming jagged in areas as parts dart out, but not too far, never reaching around to the front again, the pattern hovering at the very edge of where arms lay at rest along the side. Not quite under the arm, heading towards the shoulders, the wing begins to narrow, the division of the wings in the center of the back visible again about three-fourths up from the waist. From this division a wing begins its movement up and over the shoulder—covering the curve of the shoulder and just hugging the neckline—where a wing plunges inward, slightly, narrowing greatly, until an inch from the areola to go around the darkened flesh but never entering the teat area. The wing ends with a small balled-hoop, just as the wings had connected above and below the navel.