Peace

Normally, I hate the spring forward time change. Oh I enjoy the longer days, yes I do, but being more of a night person I do not do well losing that morning hour of sleep. This morning, after such a long, cold, gray and miserable winter, waking to glorious bright Sunshine forcing her way through our bedroom blinds was splendid. Splendid.



Peace reigns in our home. Lindy Loo is done. Swede William would like to convince her otherwise, but she is immediate and resolute in shunning his advances. Gone is the crate from the TV room. Banished are the constant worries of an accidental meeting of more than the minds of the would be lovers. At last the two sweet hearts can romp together in the yard and run off their extra energy. If and when the exhausted William ever wakes up. He is sleeping soundly, oblivious of Lindy Loo's whereabouts, for the first time in three weeks. Ah, sweet peace.





And last night's performance of Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues was magical. The writer's words are so powerfully crafted, that amateur readers from all walks of life don't diminish the intensity, electricity or potency of a single syllable. The part I read is relatively new piece, and unlike the rest of the monologues which are based on interviews of over 200 women, my reading was written by the author based on her own experience. Here is the introduction:

• Intro — I Was There In The Room This piece was performed for some time without any mention of birth. This was a bizarre omission. But, then again, a male journalist recently asked "What's the connection?" Our author, Eve Ensler, was present for the birth of her granddaughter. She was in awe of vaginas before that moment, she's in deep worship now.

I felt a huge responsibility to do her words justice. My part was the next to last, and as I congratulated the other readers on their jobs well done, I got more and more nervous. I kept reading over my part backstage and praying that I would get it right. And then I was on stage, blinded, and the words took over.



I was the Raffle Chair for the reception after the performance. I got two surprising gifts as I drew the tickets and shouted out the winning numbers. We had just awesome donations this year, and I think we raised a bunch of money for the women's shelter. Bill was tired and had left after the performance. But as I was drawing a ticket, I looked out into the crowd and he was back. Seeing him made me feel unexpectedly loved. That is a nice way to feel.



One of the raffle prizes was a lovely simple diamond necklace. There were three little diamonds on a simple chain; one of those past, present, and future designs. I put a bunch of my tickets in that bag, and as I called out the number of the winning ticket, oh! I thought it was mine. NO! I groaned, I had only missed it by one number. But then as the actual winner pressed forward from the crowd, I got a much bigger thrill. It was Sam I Am's new friend. She looked beautiful, just beautiful. She looked down and didn't meet my eyes. I wanted with every ounce of myself to embrace her, but of course I couldn't. One of the shelter's staff members smilingly met my eyes with the smallest of nods and I struggled to regain my composure. I wanted to sing and shout and cry and do a happy dance and yell WA-HOOOOOOOOO and thank all that is good in the World. I was beyond exhausted, and instantly I wasn't.

It will be Spring soon. It will be warm and green and new, and there will be old dogs lounging and baking, and friends sitting on the porch and flowers in pots, and work to do and far away friends to visit and dogs to run and husbands to come home to and life is so very good.





Hug your hounds