The holidays are over so I’m tripping over a lot of dead trees. My neighbor Polly dragged hers down the stairs like a dead body.
Why the big hurry to get rid of Christmas, that’s what I want to know.
I was happy to see Carmela the basset’s house was still lit up. They had strung lights in the shape of a manger around their front door. It may sound corny, but it’s oh, so charming. You can also see their tree if you look up at the window. I like that they didn’t strip their home of Yuletide quite yet.
Carmela’s fur coat is another matter.
What’s there to look forward to…Valentine’s Day? Not my favorite. My ex would never bring me even a card on that day. Every February 14th for 7 years I cried. “It’s a Hallmark holiday,” he’d adamantly say not caring I grew up with a day set aside for love whether it’s manufactured or not. In Holland love is practically a myth come to find out. Well you’re in America now buddy, I’d tell him, but the rat never budged.
We also have February and March to limp through. Those desolate fifty-nine days that if we can just survive them will reward us with April, one of my favorite months. It’s when everything gets ready to bloom…
I was standing outside opening mail when I heard a pretty girl say to her beau, “You love me right?” He gave her such a hug producing the biggest smile.
I shouldn’t admit this, but their mutual sweetness made me cry. They weren’t all that young either.
Love…it still exists even though it hasn’t knocked on my door in a good long while.
A young Asian man tied up his standard poodle while he ran into the cafe to buy bread. I watched him peruse the various loaves lined up in the window like chubby chorus girls. His dog, who smelled like Prell shampoo, blinked his big black eyes back at me as I nuzzled his curly neck. I felt instantly better being near him, an animal always the best antidote for a melancholy baby.
When his owner came out he said, “Nick, you’re always picking up pretty women.”
The poodle was Italian, wouldn’t you know.
Yes, this made me feel less sad as I watched them amble toward the Park both munching bread.
I ran into Polly coming back home with two big bags of groceries. “Aren’t you glad fucking Xmas is over?” she said, sipping a smoothie.
“No, can’t say I am,” I found myself saying. “at least not the visuals anyway. Everything looks stripped down to its underwear.”
“You’re nuts,” she said, shaking her big blonde head.
The nut then went and stood on the corner to look once more at Carmela’s house so she’d remember what it looked like all lit up.
A manger in March may be just what I’m going to need to see me through April.
In the meantime, I’ll get ready to bloom…maybe there’s a starter kit to be had…or book…Blooming For Dummies.
Excuse me while I Google Amazon.