I’m having a hangover day, though no alcohol is involved, so far. Must be the effect of a series of days not unlike the day outlined in my Plastered post. I have a new term: the cumulative effect. You can only push so hard for so long before things go stock-still. Every bone, every muscle, every cell of me is heavy with the weight of too much for too long. Just can’t seem to get going, and don’t want to.
I sat in G’s room on the floor by his window (he has the best light of all the rooms in the house) and looked out at a slice of blue sky (it’s been raining and raining here). The Beatles “Let It Be” came on the record player. So I cried awhile into my coffee cup, until I heard Gabriel screeching from inside some manner of closed structure in Jonah’s room. It took three tries before I found him in a closet. He wasn’t really upset, just yawping. It must be wonderful to be that sure that someone is looking out for you, not to be afraid. Or to be that oblivious.
I suppose the cumulative effect also applies to our gate. Gabriel has figured how to open it. No more cordoning him off in the backyard (not counting the escape route where John’s soon-to-be built rock wall and our existing fence don’t quite meet). Today he was gone before I noticed and our friend Terry (the post lady) crossed the street to our house when she saw him on the sidewalk by the street. Mercy me. Thankfully, Sophie’s collar makes a good padlock. An effect of the cumulative effect you might say.