I took to baking on this Sunday. The scene beyond the window daunted me. Everything swirled and tossed about in a random fashion like nothing made sense. The birds in the sky were leaves, blown about and I couldn't figure anything out. I drew back into myself as if I had decided to remove myself from the world and yet reminders came in all fashions to me. One can never escape despite Bach, despite the sifting of memory, the break down of a life.
Night before was hell. I woke from a dream. I had been dreaming about something nice I am sure of that. Palm trees and a beach and a house on stilts and jazz and margaritas and feet in sandals, legs in shorts. It was wonderful in the dream. The real world of rain and austerity gone, banished far away. All the worries about mortgage and bills for this and that swept out of my head. I woke at three. I could smell something bad. I said, 'do you smell that?'. But H did not respond. I prodded his back, 'do you smell that?', I said. I shook him then. 'The dog,' I said, 'it must be Small Dog'. 'She needs to go out, will you let her out?, I said. I could hear the gale howling beyond the windows of this house. The roar of the sea flowing through my ears. H got up and turned on the lamp. He roared, 'oh my god, I don't believe it'. I jumped up and saw to my dismay something I thought Small Dog might never be capable of. I can leave it to your imagination, I have to leave it to your imagination . In the corner of the room, yes and on the CARPET, yes and oh my god is right and I screaming like a banshee and Small Dog with her tiny paws over her head and I shouting to H to get the Vanish and he comes back upstairs with Woolite and washing up liquid and I'm saying where is the Vanish because I'm still deep in my dream. And Small Dog walks with her head down to the back porch and her tail down. I had to open the windows, wash the carpet, take out the damn spot while there was still time and I forgot about H and climbed back into bed to resume my dream of the house on stilts. I dozed off quickly. I thought I heard H in my dream calling me. Perhaps from a golden beach, smiling up at me with a lobster in his hands. But it did not stop and I got up to find him out in the garden in his robe in the gale. The back porch door, in the wild storm of the night, had slammed behind him. He looked desperate when I rescued him. Like someone drenched and tired and weary from domesticity. I opened the door. 'What happened?', I said. 'I had to pee and went behind the hedge,' he said. I started to laugh. I could not stop myself. I laughed all the way upstairs. Back into bed. Back into my lost dreams. I kept laughing until sleep took over and dreams became lost into the night like tossed birds in the sky and nothing made sense at all and it didn't matter even if the wind blew in the window and insisted on reminding us that we are only temporary on this earth. And so I baked today with gusto. I made Pumpkin Cupcakes and kept cooking some wonderful food for dinner. I padded around in my socks and sucked in the hours and Small Dog snoozed on her cushion. Now and then she opened her eyes to survey my movements and satisfied, resumed her nap like nothing separated us at all.