plaster and lathe

it's a drizzle and spit sort of rain day in new jersey. cnn is on and i'm in my bed, shih tzu rolling on her back in utter joy of just being in the moment. i read The Call of The Wild one night via e book. i couldn't sleep, too jazzed with effexor and prozac ( my dr's tinkering with my brain chemistry )this read makes you think about how loyal dogs are(i have three)

they are loved like humans in our house. but the book really gets to the essence of their primordial instincts. they will gve their lives just for being shown kindness. i just saw a news banner on cnn, baby clinging to life after being found in toilet in S.C. i mean, what the f-ck? isn't that where excrament is supposed to go? can you imagine if this baby survives, one day googling his plight? that's a call for major
therapy. to say the least.

my life is a lot like plaster and lathe. my husband, a general contractor, was talking about ripping it out of an older home. it's what walls used to be made of. strips of wood perhaps three inches in width and maybe three to six feet long, are nailed east to west and then covered with plaster somtimes mixed with horse hair. anyway he found termite infestation. it makes my skin crawl.

we see a smooth wall, painted, maybe a picture here and there. childrens finger smudges, doodling by some picasso in denial. but underneath, family secrets, viscious fights, infidelities, illness, financial woes, tears, laughter, noises of love making, decisions made and sometimes regretted, sometimes celebrated. we can't know what the plaster and lathe will never reveal. with the exception of termites.....