graduation day
Walking along the shore road with my camera, still coming down off my Lensbaby high, I looked up to see a perfectly eerie full moon and recalled Justin’s ski patrolling days. He’d come home trailing the scents of snowmobile fuel and chairlifts and say
Jesus, people go crazy when the moon is full. Seriously, they go totally mad. They go off the backside in nothing but waffle t-shirts and we find them at three in the morning, floating head-down in a creek halfway to Whistler. Tonight this guy took off all his clothes and sat on a tree limb overhanging a cliff, and we had to talk him down and carry him out. People go crazy when the moon is full. It triggers something. Ambulance attendants know this, cops know this. Full moon shifts are always nuts. People get aggressive and stupid and dreamy and then they crack their heads. People are animals, and I don’t mean that in any way other than we really are. We’re animals, Kate.
Justin has more than a decade of experience peeling ripped-off jawbones from tree trunks and duct-taping them back onto people’s faces. And so I trust him in matters such as full moons and add yet another checkmark in the YES, VIRGINIA, THERE IS SOME WACKY SHIT WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND column.
Because if we really are simple animals that get drunk with invincibility in the moonlight, then there can also be such things as water molecules that prickle in the presence of negative energy, and clever dolphins, and UFOs, and other dimensions, and legitimate curiosities, and maybe the hippies and the shamans were right about everything except armpit hair and the fringe benefits of being struck by lightning.
And so I am satisfied.
We see some beautiful things in these halls, the palliative care doctor said to me. It can’t all be chance.
Magical mystery: two.
Colourless dust: zero.
+++
Feeling mighty satisfied after financially irresponsible lingerie purge and restocking. cotton schmotton. someone pass me a smoke
With her usual impeccable timing, my mother noticed http://twitter.com/sweetsalty.
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Tomorrow may be Ben’s last NICU followup clinic. Physiotherapists and neonatologists and nutritionists will test, observe, scribble on clipboards. And then they might declare Ben’s prematurity a part of his history that’s now happily irrelevant.
Kinda like his first haircut. Done, but not so he looks like he could do your taxes or give you a root canal.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Reader Comments (31)
People are nuts. Work retail.
I don't know how much folklore coloured these observations, but I do know that mystery keeps me sane.
I hope the followup clinic goes marvellously. Clearly, the haircut is a success.
And yeah, people are nuts.
We've been studying stars here and why we can't see so many in the city (or during the daytime, for that matter) and bella noticed just last night that we see less stars with a full moon. Wonder if it's because people can't see the stars.
Thank-You!
Wishing you all the best at the clinic... When I see Ben, I think of my friend's son Jasper whose birth experience was like Ben's. Jasper is now 8 and plays goal on his hockey team. xox
love the haircut. such a cute boy with a trusting face!
Looking forward to reading your book...and possibly getting together sometime you're in town?
Jenn
(Oooh, just had a thought - I kind of like the Mystery as another name for God. I could shorten it to The Mister and everyone would think I've gone off my rocker for good.)
(Please, Mister, take care of me and everyone I love and help me not be a dumbass today. Amen.)
(I need more coffee, I think.)
Ben is so beautiful. He looks very kissable. I hope his checkup earns him a big gold star and a "seeyalater, perfectly healthy boy."
I'm holding off on the first haircut too. I feel as if once it's done he's truly a little boy, not a baby.
Is the book any closer to being shared???
thought you might be referring to these water crystals here
http://www.life-enthusiast.com/twilight/research_emoto.htm
a nice vote towards there being more than we know. though do you think his name really is emoto?
and then there is a little girl lost sending pink balloons to her family home a day after they were released. something out there indeed.
happy to find your tweets, very excited about more s/s more of the time.
book? book?
2. Full moon crazies? Ask my mom. She's a licensed practical nurse in a nursing home and every time there's a full moon, the residents get more energized, moodier, and have a tendency to take stupid risks if not carefully monitored.
3. I won't even tell my mom that Twitter exists. She's on Facebook; that's enough for me. ;)
Magical mystery: two.
Colourless dust: zero."
I love this, Kate. And the photos of Ben. Gorgeous. The blue!
My friend admits patients in a physchiatric hospital and her theory is that the ocean tide changes on full moons and since we are made of water she figures people with chemical imbalances get all messed up too... but she said there is a definite relationship there...
Love the haircut, so grateful you share these little guys with us!
And as to the moon, hoot,hoot,hoot, holler, oh, there's my jaw bone. Hell yes!
I had my first child on a full moon, I think my second too, and there were more vaginas sporting balding heads that night than I thought possible. Weird.
And the moon called me out to be all weird in its light a few nights ago.
What if the hippies and the shamans were right about everything *including* armpit hair. Maybe you should try it ;).
Twitter, huh? Luckily, my mom is skeert of computers. Plus my updates are protected because too many sketchy people randomly followed me one night after I posted a link to the book "Everyone Poops." People *are* crazy; Twitterers can be terrifying.
That there boy is beautiful.
Seeing him makes me lose my breath, and miss Liam.