Wow – there are ducks all over the place around here – usually the litters don’t all make it but I’m seeing adolescent ducks like crazy.
At the same time, I’m working hard to get my ducks in a row around here.
I went to my mother’s to look for her brace since she cracked a rib when she tripped over Arlene. My mother’s apartment is the antithesis of T’s mother’s – you could eat off the floors at her mother’s house, and you’re scared to eat anything at my mother’s. There are bags and boxes and stacks and plants and dead flowers and empty jars and ashtrays willy nilly and framed portraits on the floor and magazines and books covering every square inch of space and as I let myself in, I maneuvered over to her bedroom and there she was sound asleep and she looked so old and fragile, it broke my heart.
She’s never had her ducks in a row, but it seems as the years go by the crazy wild ducks that used to pass for enigmatic are now looking mottled and there is duck shit everywhere and cacophony is ruling the roost. Wow.
I vow to throw away and to purge and to keep my ducks in a row as much as possible if only to have room to breathe.