I feel like the cobwebs I’ve removed from around the house with my trusty vacuum cleaner this week have somehow taken up residence in my mind, because even though it’s not quite eleven, I feel tired and groggy, as if my thoughts are as shrouded in spider silk and dust as the legs of the bar stools were before I went on my mad cleaning adventure.

The house is all sparkling clean, but I’m feeling muted and muzzy and I think I might actually turn out the light a bit earlier than usual, not even read before going to sleep, just curl up with the dogs.

It’s chilly in my room, but I like that. The heat is technically on, but the temperature is turned down pretty low because I don’t like to wake up hot, and I have flannel sheets on the bed, and the dogs are sweetly curled up on Fuzzy’s pillow.

I miss Fuzzy.

And the cobwebs are like gauze stretching from wakefulness into sleep.

Thursday 13: 0710.25

Thirteen Things about MISS MELISS
Things that Begin with W

  1. Walks – especially with my dogs. They sniff everything, and track things they’ll never even see, let alone catch, and I get to experience the various seasonal changes in our neighborhood.
  2. Water – whether it’s my shower, my lovely tub with the window, my pool, or rain, I think best when I’m in or around water. The sound of the surf is my touchstone, and it’s in my head and my heart even when I’m far from the actual ocean.
  3. Weaving – I’m not sure if I like The Lady of Shallot because she weaves, or if I like weaving because of the poem, but the whole notion of weaving appeals to me. I’ve been following this blog about a New Hampshire farm just to read about their sheep and the wool they get from them.
  4. Web – I’m not a fan of spiders, but I think that orb webs are among the loveliest sites Nature has produced. As well, I’m a fan of that other sort of web, the one preceded by “world wide.”
  5. Weeds – as kids we all think dandelions are pretty until we’re conditioned to think of them as weeds, lawn disruptors, the enemy. The thing is, I like weeds. Some of them are just as pretty as “real” flowers.
  6. Wells, Rebecca – she seriously needs to write another book, because Little Altars Everywhere was short stories, and not satisfying, and Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood just wasn’t enough. And I know there was also YaYas in Bloom, but, still. More please.
  7. Whales – John Denver sang, “Have you gazed out on the ocean, seen the breaching of a whale? Have you watched the dolphins frolic in the foam.” D. H. Lawrence wrote:

    They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains

    the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent.

    All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge

    on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs.

    The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers

    there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of

    the sea!

    And they rock, and they rock, through the sensual ageless ages

    on the depths of the seven seas,

    and through the salt they reel with drunk delight

    and in the tropics tremble they with love

    and roll with massive, strong desire, like gods.

    Then the great bull lies up against his bride

    in the blue deep bed of the sea,

    as mountain pressing on mountain, in the zest of life:

    and out of the inward roaring of the inner red ocean of whale-blood

    the long tip reaches strong, intense, like the maelstrom-tip, and

    comes to rest

    in the clasp and the soft, wild clutch of a she-whale’s

    fathomless body.

    And over the bridge of the whale’s strong phallus, linking the

    wonder of whales

    the burning archangels under the sea keep passing, back and


    keep passing, archangels of bliss

    from him to her, from her to him, great Cherubim

    that wait on whales in mid-ocean, suspended in the waves of the


    great heaven of whales in the waters, old hierarchies.

    And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale-

    tender young

    and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of

    the beginning and the end.

    And bull-whales gather their women and whale-calves in a ring

    when danger threatens, on the surface of the ceaseless flood

    and range themselves like great fierce Seraphim facing the threat

    encircling their huddled monsters of love.

    And all this happens in the sea, in the salt

    where God is also love, but without words:

    and Aphrodite is the wife of whales

    most happy, happy she!

    and Venus among the fishes skips and is a she-dolphin

    she is the gay, delighted porpoise sporting with love and the sea

    she is the female tunny-fish, round and happy among the males

    and dense with happy blood, dark rainbow bliss in the sea.
    –Whales Weep Not


    Beyond that, there need be no explanation – they’re amazing wonderful animals.

  8. Whispers – sometimes a whisper is better heard than the loudest scream. Whispers are intimate, soft, private. They imply things that are secret and special.
  9. Why – I’m told that I used to ask this incessantly. Of course, I was five at the time. Now though, I still like to know WHY before I do anything.
  10. Windows – I like looking in as much as looking out – each has its own perspective and its own beauty.
  11. Wit – in humor, I prefer irony, sarcasm, and other examples of dry wit, over slapstick and sophomoric jokes. Always have. Always will.
  12. Writing – I don’t just sling words because it pays the bill. I do it because on some level, I have to. I am made of ink and paper and words and music. And coffee, but that’s a different letter.
  13. Wonder – as a noun, it’s almost synonymous with magic and as a verb it is musing, questioning, exploration. I like it in both aspects.

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