Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Yesterday

Yesterday I bought a package of meat for the first time in many years. I don't know what enticed me, I went to the store to buy balloons for my neighbor's daughter and ended up with shrink wrapped marbled ground beef. I don't make this stuff up.

As I was walking home from the store (with my balloons) Lucy drove by and honked. I thought she'd stop, but I watched her car turn the corner and disappear. Perplexed, I went along my merrily way with a stroller full of baby, a pouch of meat and a half dozen neon balloons. Neon balloons that looked pastel, which pleased me because anything neon assaults my better senses. You too?

When I crossed the street to travel homeward a crossing guard told me that I looked "delightful" and that I should "buy a bouquet of balloons everyday and cross the street" so that she could "watch." Isn't that interesting? Put a little bounce in my step. Tell you what.

Back at Retro House I continued sorting through piles of former clothes. There is this white cardigan that I swear I have given a way eight times to family and friends alike and yet, it always arrives back in my tub labeled "Clothes I might want someday when I can fit into them."

Later in the day Lucy arrived. Pregnant and pink turtleneck, both.

"Why is there a green balloon on your front lawn?"

"A what?" I asked.

Then I panicked thinking that perhaps the balloons left on my neighbor's doorstep became victims to the wind. Isn't there some saying like "what you let go will come back to you?" Case in point being boomerangs, carry pigeons and white cardigans.

In inspecting the green balloon on my front lawn (tied to a NO PARKING sign) I couldn't tell if the shade was neon, pastel or just normal. In all my life I never knew that one day I would care. But this day had arrived and I wanted to be present.

The best I came up with was "Maybe it is the same green balloon I bought earlier and left on my neighbor's porch, and maybe it isn't."

Lucy wasn't worried.

"Anyway, I want a hamburger." She sighed.

Her pregnancy has almost been meat-free since she decided to go sparingly on the flesh. Ric too.

"I have meat in my fridge. Let's make hamburgers for dinner tonight." I offered, realizing that all actions have meaning, even when they mean nothing at the time. Who knew my buying meat would satisfy a woman of her fragile state?

And at this point I am wondering why anyone would spend five minutes reading this post, but I am writing it anyway.

We set to task. Savored-up the meat. Pulled out mustard, mayo, ketchup. Fetched lettuce, purple onions and tomatoes off the vine. Medium sharp cheddar was sliced along with pickles and avocados. Chup delivered a package of fries to be baked until crispy. Ric, world champion Seasoner of All Foods (Lawrys) even gave us a thumbs up.

(Did that paragraph just decide for you what your going to have for lunch?)

As we were eating I told Chup about how the balloon appeared on our lawn and how I couldn't settle on its origins.

"What balloon?" He asked looking out the window.

The balloon was gone. As if (get this) it was never there to begin with.

Just before bed I was reading up on the immensity of ethical diets and found Flexitarianism "a semi-vegetarian diet focusing on vegetarian food with occasional meat consumption." Which describes me these days. You know, call me insecure, but nothing does better for my soul than a label. Puts me right where I belong.

Now, if you'll excuse me I am done writing this post.