I haven’t written anything in two months. I have wanted to. . . but nothing comes to mind. This morning when I first woke, before I got up, I decided I would write about my day. It was still dark. I felt my way out of the bedroom to the guest bathroom where the puppies sleep, to let them out. I sensed something was amiss. I flicked on the hall light. . . and three horrible piles of puke were on the carpet. (The bare floor was only a couple of feet away.) I knew the culprit was Ace. He had that guilty dog look on his face, and besides, the puppies were locked up. I wanted to add to it in the worst way. . . but managed to stop myself.
I let the three of them outside and surveyed the damage. I was short on time. . . I was going to an Elkhorns Weed Meeting and I had to meet Sharlene Sing at the Bunkhouse at 9:00. This was not a “pick up with a paper towel and proceed,” kind of mess. It was a “get the shovel and pick up the mess”, kind of mess. I wasn’t even dressed yet.
I dressed, fed and switched the horses around (from corral to pasture etc.) dug the spade out of the shed, and headed back to the house. It was grim. I did what I could, scrubbed the carpet as well as possible, and determined the contents of the pukes were elements from a nearby gut pile left by a hunter. I’m sure some of it was intestine, liver, and possibly kidney. My CSI skills are sadly lacking in stuff that’s been partially digested.
“Dear God,” I breathed a prayer. “Who am I and why am I here? Is there more to life than cleaning up horrible messes?” Then I realized, that is why I have writers block. I am in limbo. I no longer know who I am or why I am here! It was comforting to know what the problem was. I don’t have a sense of self.
I am also recovering from a three-week bout of vertigo; the spinning of the room starts when I move my head in certain ways. . . but I never know which position will bring it on until the spinning starts. The Physical Therapist has taught me ways to make the spinning stop, but the procedures take a few minutes to work. The vertigo is a physical manifestation of my spiritual loss of identity.
This flash of insight did nothing to help get the mess cleaned up and I hurriedly did the best I could and took off for the Bunkhouse. Sharlene and I went to the meeting in Helena. I had a really good day. I am a volunteer for the Forest Service and there are a few things I can still do to help the weed management program. Sharlene and I went to York after the meeting to look at some toadflax sites and had lunch at the York Bar. I felt useful and productive again. All was well until I got home. I had to spot scrub the bad spots and then drag out the shampooer and clean the whole living room. At that time, I was still not speaking to Ace.
Then, he gave me his happy dog look and bounced around and asked to be fed. I fed him a tiny bit of dog food. It’s warm out this evening. I may make him sleep outside. I do not know who I am anymore. . . but the dogs know I am the one who shares food and treats. To the horses I am the one who provides fun, food and grooming. The cat likes it that I can be taught to feed her and refill her water dish when the dogs have slobbered in it.
When I walked outside tonight it was totally dark, no stars, no moon. But, I remembered, Christmas is coming. I feel the love of Jesus surrounding me and comforting me. He knows who I am, and I know who He is. When I see the Milky Way stretched across the Heavens, I don’t feel small and insignificant, I feel important and powerful. The Creator of this amazing universe came here, and knows me. It’s only dark tonight because clouds are between me and the stars. The same clouds that are keeping it warm tonight. Tomorrow is a new day. I hope there will be no upchucks in the morning. That gut pile has to be gone by now.