No authors lately. They're standing me up, the bassets. I'm haunting Diane Farr but until I nab someone, here's a different Thursday Thirteen...13 physical manifestations of love.
1. first and foremost (along with an explanation of what the hell I'm talking about): J's bathrobe. The night my father died, we all gathered around his body to say adios. When it was time to leave, I discovered that I couldn't drive. My brother drove my car and me to his house. I stayed there, awake all night, throwing up and watching movies. My sister in law loaned me a bathrobe. I think it was blue.
All I truly recall is that the bathrobe was warm and soft and it held me all night long. And slightly delirious with panic and/or grief or whatever, I thought this is love. A bit of cloth wrapped around me is love. God is love, therefore this bathrobe is God.
It was the closest I'd come to religion for a long time. But that sensation lingers now and then. When I look at some objects, I see love. Maybe not directed at me, maybe not in the object's essence, but it's definitely there. Hi, God!
okay, only 12 more Objects O' Love.
2. My teacup that my sister made and gave to me. Not the ones portrayed here. But the one next to me is made with the same care for her craft that means I won't burn my hands when I hold it and the rim fits my mouth perfectly.
3. My teapot that my sister made and gave to my mother and that I nabbed when Mom died.
4. The lamp that my sister made and that my husband has glued together a few times. My sister, apparently, is one of the major goddesses of my objective religion. Also I really do have a lot of her pots. She's been a potter for a long time.
5. Every card my kid has made for me, duh. Kind of obvious, but just because something Screams I LOVE YOU doesn't mean it's not real. Subtlety is not required for this exercise.
Even the cards they made under duress count. I'm looking at the list of "100 Things Mom is Less Loathsome Than" which is on the table next to....
6. The wrist weights that Aya repaired with a stapler. I don't know why that's on this list. But it just kills me that it was that so easy to keep the things together, and she just grabbed them and did it.
7. The wood that Mike chopped. He's not often around when we have fires, but he still chopped the wood for us. Of course, he might not realize he's missing all those fires, but he'd probably do it anyway. He makes pancakes every Sunday and I'd say more than half the time he doesn't get a single pancake. Makes them anyway, that creature of habit.
8. The dog chewies that are under my feet. My dog stores her goodies near me as if I'm some sort of dog bank. She trusts me not to munch on her rawhide chews or her beloved tattered Pink Thing (man, that thing is ugly). Could it be that she's even sharing? Naw, let's not get too sappy here... but everyone knows, dogs = love. Almost as obvious as number five.
Huh. if bathrobe=love=dog, then dog=bathrobe? I think I need more tea. Hold on a sec.
Okay, back again.
9. The books on my shelf that other people wrote. Written with love and I don't just mean in the dedications. When I read the books, I get to share it even if it wasn't done for me.
10. The nearly finished thank you notes to the Auntie Meg, Uncle Andrew and Aunt Vivian etc. Hey, the intention of love counts, maybe. And I think it's taking them so long because, yeah, they're stalling because it's a chore, but also they try to get it right and as funny as the notes from Uncle Andrew. Poor fishes won't make it if that's what they're striving for.
11. The Christmas notes from U. Andrew. Mike scanned and saved them, they are that good.
12. A card made by Cathy--this is a cat staring at a Christmas tree. I have most of her cards framed because they are Art. Seriously, the pine cone one next to the cat is also amazing. If I get less lazy maybe I'll post them. But it won't be today because I'm lazy today.
13. This computer on my lap. It's loaded with letters and emails and bookmarks that could knock you over with the real thing if you thought about it long enough. Also it's keeping my legs warm, which is nice.
And here is the great thing--the part I really like: I can see every one of these objects from where I'm sitting. (except J's bathrobe) The other cool aspect? I don't have to own the things that were produced with love or provoke ...evoke, induce?...the response, or even see them again to know that it's love (bathrobe, again).
Okay, the tea turns out to be the kind that's icky when cold, so I'm going to go microwave it. I'll head into the kitchen where, by golly, there will be another list I could make. But I won't. Except there is a great painting of beets by Junko in there, not to mention some amazing refrigerator magnets we've gotten or made over the years.