Eye shadow

dark springtime morning-noon
laundry piles twice as high as the basket
pancakes lull twins to sleep
coffee keeps me awake

sleep-free nights blamed on nobody but me
awash with worry of early a.m.
and car seat fights
and empty computer work
no time with girls
no time for anything else, either

but it hasn’t started yet, that
our days still fluid
and stressy and sweet and impossibly new

fumes await me in a brick garage
vapors and colors and shapes
oil and turp
and I await them

love changes when you get old
old love dies, new love grows itself into whatever it damned well pleases

———->

Oh boy, what a SPECIAL attempt at poetry. Just read Nappy’s latest post and suddenly I was thinking in abstracts and cliche’s. Whatever. At least I tried, right?

After the girls went down around 2 p.m. (45 minutes ago), inexplicably I went into my room and put on some sparkly eyeshadow and lipstick. I can feel it burning my skin in a mildly pleasant way — I’m not really used to wearing makeup. There is a time and a place for it, tho, and if you never experiment with it, you will look like a circus freak when trying to use it in earnest. I was out in the world lots this past weekend. Wearing face powder and lipstick. Wearing shoes and boots with heels. Wearing hose, nylons, whatever you call ’em, though I have always and will always refuse to wear skin colored panty hose. They just look icky to me. And I won’t do it.

The first event we attended was a good friend’s wedding Saturday night, held at the American Visionary Arts Museum (AVAM). Very nice and unusual venue for a wedding. The reception was held in back of the museum in a separate building and for some reason, the DJ blasted music the entire rest of the night. My ears are still recovering, three days later. Poor little Mimi complained the music was too loud and so did I. Was that really necessary? The best part of the evening for me was, of course, not having to make my own dinner, but far more interesting and unexpected, was the emergence of Beenie as Dancing Queen. A strange and wonderful occurrence happened on the dance floor after the groom and bride did their first dance thing… Beenie, alone, ventured out into the center of the floor and just started goin’ at it. My shy Beenie. Not my fearless Mimi, who I now believe was just doing what she could to hold it together while her head and ears were pounding. Beenie, in her purple durple dress and heart mary-jane shoes cut up the rug, so to speak. She was dancing non-stop once people were dancing, and she stayed near the better dancers, copying their dance moves, incorporating it all into her own fantastic style. Completely unafraid and confident, comfortable to be by herself in a group of strangers, shaking their booties. Really, something special to witness. I feel lucky to have been there to see the magic of the dancing butterfly that is my daughter.

Sunday following, we all poured ourselves into Easter wear and hot-tailed it over to spouse’s church for Easter service, which went on a little too long, but it’s Easter, so what are you gonna do? Both ladies and myself were able to retain small semblance of composure during the long service — the girls had snacks and we found pencils and paper in the pew so they stayed busy. I stayed busy watching their hijinks. I believe this was the first time they made it through a whole service without having to be removed to the back of the church. We haven’t taken them many times. My attention span in church settings is no longer than theirs, so we all did well as far as I was concerned.

We made pancakes this morning after a first breakfast, then fell into a stupor in front of the telly watching Percy the Parkkeeper till it was naptime. There they are, here I am. I have an hour and a half until daughters re-emerge from cozy coccoons. Better make it count.