The faster the sky is falling into…well, a fall-ish time if not fall-ish weather, the smaller it feels I become. This is a good thing, of course…maybe, but then again…well, I’ll have to come back to that after I re-think it about a million more times whether it’s true that this is a good thing…my feeling so small…because as I rise above the clouds, if not the fog, I know that sooner or later I will implode into tiny, magnificent, colorful butterflies. Hundreds if not thousands of them scurrying around — flitting — I think is the word that most people think of when thinking about their winged movements — fluttering and flitting left and right and all around aka here, there and everywhere. A fitting release for what’s in store.
Of course, that could just be the Vyvanse.
Busy, busy, busier than bees, I’ll become, trying to dust and re-feather my nest. I have to be careful as I choreograph, let alone dance this dizzying, buzzing, fluttering cavort. I don’t want the feather duster feathers to fly uncontrollably stirring up God knows what nor my nest to shake, causing things to topple or drop as damnable as fumbled eggs, scattered, splattered, and scrambled and then frying, sizzling in place where they cracked open in the godawful heat of these last days of a Texas summer, far too stubborn to ever let go without a fight. The summer heat, of course; not the eggs. So scorching hot that my tears evaporate before they ever hit my cheek let alone the ground.
Anyway, the point is, I don’t want my nest to be over-feathered or under-dusted or spoilt by eggs landing where they shouldn’t, none of which is my goal, even though I’m a bit hungry when I think of fried eggs and I do tend to put them all in one basket; which makes for a fine pointed, tense line that is absolutely key to this autumnal routine; one which I think is entirely in need of an overhaul of the major kind or the Swedish Death kind — but even so, first things first. Changes and overhauls will have to wait, which of course, is never fast enough even though I might, I probably, have the time. I hope.
But one can never really know about these things, can one, when one is in the fall of one’s life?
Perhaps some music will help to get things kicked off —
PS ~ If anyone has any great fall cleaning tips, I’d be much obliged! Thanks, M