This morning, as I sat in Farmer H's La-Z-Boy, watching the upstairs TV, which is kind of like a lesser babka, compared to my big-screen in the basement...I sensed movement in the front yard.
Through the sprigs of lilac bush that have not been clandestinely consumed by Farmer H's goats, or choked by the heat and drought, I saw a flash of orange. It did not move in the manner of Yellow Leg, the strapping rooster. Nor was it as tall as he. No strutting. More of a slinking gait. I had my glasses on the table beside me. But donning them would have taken too much effort. And made too much sense.
My brain flipped on the lights for a virtual tour. Like a walk through Hannibal Lecter's Memory Palace. Outdoors. Animals. Orange. Slinking movement. Aha! I stopped at the exhibit that housed my mother's kitchen. I peered out her kitchen window, over the new two-lane concrete highway, to the edge of the woods just past the right-of-way. There he was. A fox. Orange. Slinking.
I squinted just a little. It sometimes makes my vision sharper. I waited. The questionable critter flowed a few more paces. Came out from behind the lilac shoots. I eagerly anticipated Mr. Quick Orange Fox jumping over my lazy dogs. But that canine insult would have to wait for another day. For what I saw emerge from the bone-dry branches was not a fox.
It was our orange-striped cat, Genius.
Join me here at the Mansion later this week, when I host a symposium on Which Goes First, Vision, or Mental Faculties?
But now, I must grab my glasses and head to the door. I think I hear a herd of zebras galloping down the road.
6 comments:
Perhaps you are getting depressed by the oncoming school year? Personally, my glasses never come off except during bathing. Eyesight goes first, unless you have a stroke. So you are good so far. I would guess that continuing in your job and writing and caring for the family should keep you in good mental health - unless Hman strokes you.
Sometimes failing vision is a good thing. It means you cannot see the facial hair sprouting up, among other things.
Haha, I love coming here to your blog and reading what goes on about the Mansion. It sounds as nutty as this house! Our hens are mad I tell ya, mad! Talking up a storm as I try to hang out the washing, and running up to me clucking away like they are telling tales on each other hehe Love it!
knancy,
I am not looking forward to the grindstone. Even though I love my job, who wants to work when you can sit around and not work?
I definitely have to keep my wits about me to combat all the tomfoolery flung my way.
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Sioux,
Or my own faults. Thank the Gummi Mary, I have decent mid-range vision, so I can still point out the faults of others!
Maybe I can get some thick glasses from the lost-and-found box at the movies! And buy some JujyFruits and a petrified hot dog while I'm there. Maybe they're showing Rochelle, Rochelle! I'll try to save you a seat.
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Cazzie,
We had a brief downpour yesterday. I stepped out of the basement door to watch, and saw a bunch of chickens huddled under the porch. They DID seem to talk to me. The poor half-grown chickens who hatched in June had never seen rain. They walked around in it, befuddled.
Yes, but don't come to the theater with a button missing from your shirt.
And don't come to the movies after you've gotten wet from a hose, either. Otherwise, we'll all jump to conclusions.
Sioux,
I'll bring a case of Chinese chewing gum. Which doesn't mean I'm crazy.
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