Another Day in the Life

Even the unicorn meat eating cats are sleeping right now...

I went to an 'Arts Evening' yesterday at a friend's house; we'll call her the Saucy Brit and her husband, Tom Cat. I call her saucy because of her personality, and for her willingness to stand up to the Arts Powers that Be in the area.

As I have said before, I love hanging with worldly, or educated people. I'll take either. They relax me enough so that I don't usually commit the social faux pas to which my disabilities make me prone. I have actually gone into shock meeting people before, and the results can be disastrous. That's why I tell people I am a writer as soon as I meet them. They can chalk up that twitch to riotous living. I am particularly adept at funerals. More than once I have made a total ass of myself over a coffin, and now avoid them like the plague...as it were.

But last evening was dedicated to studying a few of Leonardo da Vinci's works. It was a great presentation by the moderator and the evening 'went well.' What is left of my social being sucked it up as hard as I could. I would spend all day, every day like that if I could.

The inner me: It was an evening watching the light filter through the curtains onto the face of a friend, Storm. We sent the cats, Emma and Portia, back and forth between us like we were playing a game of badminton. Tasty foods and wine (you know I drank the water) and every once in a while the entire crowd would drift out into the garden. At the end, people left like smoke dispersing, and what was left was a hard core group of chatty people enjoying the evening and being in each others company.

Every where I turned I felt nothing but acceptance. It is a rare enough experience in this chaotic world we all share. It's a world where even our proponents in the health professions call people like me  'a consumer.' It is Freedom.

And so my mouth moved, but I was struck speechless by this atmosphere maintained by the Saucy Brit and Tom Cat.  I haven't felt so talented and special since my mother died...

And they are back to the zinnia, and the lavender. Now the cats are awake, and want to hunt. Max is all for more sleep, hiding his eyes under the blanket. And my world contracts like a dying star, which has swollen to absorb all matter within it's reach, and now shrinks again, but sending out starlight all the same.