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What is a good day? A good day is when something or someone makes you smile at least once. A great day is when someone makes you belly laugh. Today I started off in a sour mood because a very dear person to me is leaving my surrounds – but through a series of email miscommunications on a completely different topic bouncing from here to China, I got the funniest email ever that started a ripple effect of uproarious laughter.

One word: Shtiks.

Now that is a great day.

I realize with Tin that if I can stop the world I am in for a few minutes and get into his world, we totally relate. So today when Heidi had to go in for her mega bucks oral surgery and I saw Loca hanging by the front door, pining for her sister, I realized that Loca doesn’t know what we know – that Heidi will be back soon in better shape than she left. I came across this photo of Loca the other day under the title LOST DOG – it was the morning after she had leapt into my arms in Swirl and I had taken her home to find her owner:

They say rescues are the best because they are always grateful for the home you have given them and in fact that day Loca was such a lovey dovey to Arlene that I opened the door slightly to the thought of keeping her even though Arlene was already geriatric and I was in no mood for a puppy.

Then in the waning months of Arlene’s life, we opened the door to another rescue dog who needed us and Loca was not so keen about Wolfie, because she could tell her partner in crime, Arlene, was on her last days, and she wasn’t ready to open her heart to another. But open it she did.

When Wolfie died much too quickly for any of us, Heidi needed a home and Loca again found herself with someone who wasn’t part of the “I’m a grateful rescue dog” shtick, because now Loca had moved into pole position. But after several months, we woke up one morning to Heidi kissing Loca and Loca kissing back and from that moment on, they have been fast friends, sisters, buds.

So hopefully Heidi will come back from her surgery soon so that Loca can get right again because right now she is in the throes of having to tip toe around Blekica for fear of being swiped with a paw. Bam Bam is even terrorized and refuses to come in from the screen porch.

I was watching this old version of Mahalia Jackson singing and it just put a smile on my face. I got Tin a Louis Armstrong DVD and we were watching it in his room today and he danced around while stacking blocks – he got his blocks stacked nine high and then put the miniature astronaut on the top, the whole time shaking his booty. Louie was making me smile with his satchel cheeks and bright grin.

I’ve been listening to Sam Cooke – what a voice – good gracious that is what I call transformational.

Music take me away…….

I got some bad news today about a friend who didn’t need any more bad news and well, I just decided to quit with all the what if’s and anxiety and everything and just say to hell with it. I made French toast for Tin out of leftover Challah and made us some Moroccan style greens with chickpeas (yummy). Then Tin and I went for a walk around the bayou – it’s always around dinner time that the sky lights up in the pink hue as the softer sun bounces off the other side of the bayou.

Tin was testing me and kept trying to change directions of the walk because he didn’t want to be told which way to go. At one point, I turned and kept walking and when I turned back he was standing in the middle of the street. To say that my heart stopped would be an understatement. I never took my eyes on him and walked right to him and told him that if he ever did that again he would never leave the house for the rest of his life. He tried it one more time and I walked with him right to the edge and told him that he better not even think about it and he looked up at me. “See how fast those cars are going, they could hit you, hurt you. No street unless you have Mommy’s hand or are old enough to cross yourself.”

Then we saw the round full moon glowing in the dusky sky. “Moooooon,” he said, changing his tune from obstinate to adorable. We looked across the bayou at the LaLa and I just sighed. This house that gives me such great joy has been weighing on me like a stone – fix this, fix that, bleed money here, bleed money there. My deep seated desire to get in Blue and ride to Mexico has held me fast around the neck and yet, I looked over the bayou with the moon light twinkling in the “waaaahhh uter” and thought, damn, it’s home, whatyagonnado?

Clouds never last do they baby?

We came back across the bridge and there were soft waves stirring up the bayou, the houses on the west side were glowing from the last traces of sun, and as we got to our side there was a red canoe tied up with water lapping the sides and the big oak cast an ominous shadow around us. “Treeeee.” “Bowww oat.” “Moooon.”

Suddenly the world that was overwhelming was so intensely awash with reds, blues, pinks, greens, and shadows and light and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the birds flying just overhead, and the soft hum of people walking by and the gas lanterns flickering on the old houses made me think that perhaps I got my head screwed on backwards because life is always about bills and loss but it’s also full of joy and plenty and sometimes we see the world with our eyeballs screwed in too tight, so life seems harsh and glaring, but it’s not.

Like my friend said as I tried to console him, but he was really consoling me, “I’m a survivor. So are you.”

A friend told me that a six week old black baby girl needed a home. “Are you interested?”

Good grief, on the heels of all that is going on I said, “Yes, no, wait, yes, no, no.”

I referred the baby girl to our friend who wants a baby “just like Tin,” and since the skin color was at least close, I said, “Here is your Tin.”

Lord today, another baby. No, I’d have to say not right now.

I was able to get to yoga today when a call was cancelled and thank god I went because yesterday’s cardio class nearly killed me and my newfound late night anxiety is threatening to seal the deal. Michele’s assistant talked about how when we step outside after a yoga class we are aware and engaged with the world. In our practice we seek balance in our poses. He used yoga as a metaphor for the artist struggle to strike a balance between expression and audience, and about the end result being harmony, which is love.

I’ve been trying to balance having gone too far in one path – the LaLa’s columns need their annual maintenance but this time it is serious, the outside of the LaLa has spots that are getting dry rot and need to be replaced, some areas were replaced last year, and now I need a more serious fix, the side yard with its muddy mess because grass won’t grow under the palms that are now towering had to be fixed, Blue needed a bunch of stuff I wasn’t expected to fix – money, that old chestnut – I find that I’m in hoard mode as fall approaches but I’m being forced to throw all my nuts out of the nest.

Last night at midnight, I took all my worry dolls out of the drawer and went through a cluster of worry for each doll – doll number one – money, doll number two – job, doll number three – house, doll number four … This morning, still half asleep, I put all the little dolls back in the drawer and thanked them for worrying for me so I could get some sleep.

All you need is love? Hardly, right now I need a plan. An exit strategy.

So here’s my horoscope – it seemed the writer was in a pensive mood:

September 21, 2010

1. Taurus (4/20-5/20)

   So, what’s been happening in your love life lately? A good place to start, when you answer that question, is with yourself. Whether you’re single or solidly committed, how are you feeling? Connected, disconnected? What are your expectations of a relationship? What are your expectations of a life? Do you think people are meant to be together or are fundamentally alone? How do expectations play out in the way you relate to others? Food for thought, eh?

   So here’s my answer – there is no right answer – is being coupled up better than being alone – yes and no? Depends on the timing, there are times I would say yes or no equally. In the larger view, being alone is what I usually crave which is why I work alone, why I go for walks alone, prefer to ride my bike alone, which is why my activities such as reading, writing, and solitary bike rides are more about being alone. But I also love to be in a relationship that is satisfying, where we have joint experiences, joint goals, support and love and common ground. I saw a statistic that suggested parenting is either than marriage and that’s probably true.

   According to one thing I read a long time ago, marriage is about two people who come together seeking out what they lack in the other, then over time they intertwined and should be able to embody the traits they lacked and then disentangle and continue to grow side by side. That is difficult. I like that T is laid back – will I ever have be, I sincerely doubt it. She likes my direct, take charge personality, does it sometimes make her crazy, yes. Partnerships from where I stand now are about constant tweaking and negotiation – as I said before, I’d like to believe that the person I was when I entered this relationship is capable of being greater than the sum of my parts. And more importantly, I hope to see in T a larger picture than the one I have come to expect. Only then will we be able to transform ourselves into true life long partners that matter.

The other night Tin and I were visiting my neighbor and a football game was on and his eyes were riveted to the TV set. My neighbor said, “He might be on the field one day,” and I said, “I’d rather him sing When the Saints Come Marching In than be one.” So I was watching a video about Deacon John and he said his mother cut his fingernails under a fig tree because there is an old Creole myth that if you do that your child will become a musician. Since T does the nail cutting, I told her to find a fig tree.

You could throw a rock and hit a musician in this town, and I guess that is what makes it great to play music in this city and not (it’s hard to get paid when there are so many of you). I’ve seen no other profession struggle to make a living more than a musician except if you compare them to a grade school teacher. Lofty work but low down pay. I was looking around for a singer to sing a song for my mom because I want to honor her with beauty to represent the beauty she was and was given a ton of recommendations by musicians I know – “he sang at so and so’s funeral and it was transformational, she has a voice that is heavenly, he is the one, a top musician,” and in the end was given more names than I need. An embarrassment of riches.

Tonight, with the three quarter moon growing brighter and brighter in the dark grey sky, one of these singers sang me an old negro spiritual on the telephone that brought tears to my eyes – it was Sam Cooke’s version of Any Day Now:

One of these mornings
I’m a-going away
Any day now
I’m going to heaven to stay

I don’t know how soon
maybe morning, night or noon
but I’m going to see the father
and by his side to stand

there’ll be no sorrow no sadness
just only complete gladness
but any day
I know that I am going home

that I’ll shout hallelujah
and give praises to his name
but any day
I know that I am going home

Life has a funny way of being all inclusive like the fact that my dear friend is attending her nephew’s funeral tonight, he died suddenly of a heart attack last Thursday, and in the meantime, I’m thinking about my mother’s one year anniversary and ways to honor her spirit, and then the guy comes to look at the solid mahogany columns on the LaLa and says I should paint them white or else I’m just going to be maintaining and maintaining and maintaining. But isn’t maintenance needed for just about every little thing you do in the world till we don’t?

Maintain your relationship, maintain your body, maintain your mind, maintain your spirit, maintain your house, maintain your car, maintain your sense of humor …….