love – Page 2 – Sidewalk Face

Intimacy

March 23, 2021March 23, 2021by Sidewalk Face at Eagle-Crow-Owl2 Comments

What is intimacy? What is the best barometer to register whether or not you have it? I’ll tell ya straight up. It’s the presence of poop.

If you can tell who’s been in the bathroom just by the smell, congratulations, you have intimacy.

You also need to buy some Simple Truth Odor Eliminator room spray which they sell at Ralphs. Awesome stuff.

Please bear with me. Or leave while pinching your nose. I’m sorry in advance. But I really do have something to say about what nonromantic intimacy is, it’s value (very high) and it’s price (very high).

I am an observer of the mundane. I suppose we all are, but I tend to really mull it over. And I’ve noticed that that which is the most meaningful to me, is bound up in physical, animal biology. The more I value something, the closer I seem to be to its turds. Let’s start with the dogs. And disclaimer. I am not, repeat NOT, going to get graphic. I am not a third grader. I want to amuse you and maybe goose you into alternate perspective, I don’t want to disgust you.

I pick up approximately half the poops pooped by my pooches. My husband picks up the other half. I am pretty sure I am more intimate with my dogs than with any other living creatures. They sleep in bed with us. Decaf, the male dog prefers to sleep between me and my husband with just his head poking out of the sheets just like a human. It’s so freaking cute. I marvel at it almost every day. I know I can reach an arm over and give him a firm snuggle and he will not resist. He is totally there for me. That’s intimacy.

The wedding of availability and trust, he is there for me without fear and I am there for him without harm. I know I can count on him. The price for this great gift? Poop.

If we lived in the woods or on a large tract of land the price would be cheaper, but I would still be responsible for his basic needs. It’s not so much that I have to actually physically deal with it (though as a city dweller I do) it’s that I am responsible for him and I can’t casually come and go from that arrangement. That’s where intimacy comes in, it’s the fruit of unbroken tending.

With humans, we can mostly skip this arrangement except with very young children, very old kin and the unlucky. I am not going to tackle all that now as I live with my husband and a 16-year-old. If I could keep all my doings in this arena utterly private I gladly would. I assume those with multiple bathrooms take advantage to protect each other from total intimacy. We only have one and so unfortunately, we often know much more about each other’s animal activities than anyone desires. But there is a positive flip side to this annoying lack of privacy and that is humor of being known. Humor is perhaps the best way to demonstrate you know someone. We know each other over here and it’s not underrated.

We bypass this specific level of intimacy with friends, which is precisely what is so great about friends. But poop is just a metaphor. The friends we know best, we’ve metaphorically passed by their recently used bathroom. We’ve seen them in tears, we’ve heard them yell and scream, we’ve felt annoyed by them and yet we don’t leave. Intimacy is access to the full range. Intimacy is knowledge of the full range. Intimacy is measured in the width of the barrier. If you can smell it, the barrier is quite thin.

Relationships, Striving to Be Better

Being Efficient isn’t a Great Epithet

January 14, 2021March 9, 2021by Sidewalk Face at Eagle-Crow-Owl6 Comments

Here lies Caren McCaleb. She could put dishes away faster than you. Ponder that and go do something great with your life.

That’s what I am reflecting on after a little incident this morning with a bunch of stray plastic lids. I need to re-frame my habitual response.

I have a pet peeve that’s triggered almost daily. It’s about putting things away. I want every item to have a place in the home where it lives. I want them to be in that place, and only that place, when they are not in use. My husband does not seem to want this. He is okay with things being in all sorts of places. In my model, every object has an assigned parking lot that no one else can park in, in his, the parking lot is first come first serve and just because you got the prime spot yesterday doesn’t mean a plastic lid can’t claim it today.

The reason I prefer my model is that it is more efficient. When I am putting things away, especially the dishes, I can grab what I want to return and just place it where it goes. In his model, I grab what I want to put away, go to the place it lives, notice the space is now occupied by an interloper, set down the object I’m holding, resettle the interlopers, pick up the object again and finally place it. The peeve I feel, the irritation, is that extra few steps. I don’t want to move the stupid plastic lids before I can set down the bowl! I’ve got other important things to do like surf the web for bad news.

Imagine if every time you came back to your apartment, you have to double park your car, knock on the neighbor’s door, ask for his keys and move his car from your parking spot to his. Such a needless pain in the ass.

Or is it?

My husband consistently does a bunch of things I hate to do; bill paying, laundry, feeding the dogs, last dog walk of the night, veterinary interactions, communicating with our tax guy, installing everything that needs installing, car maintenance, Wi-Fi maintenance, staying calm. He also does a bunch of things so much better than me, like making chili and being a DJ. His chili is perfection and he is a genius music curator. Is there something on this list that I would trade for better tupperware management?

If we both did what I can do, how would this other stuff get done? If we both did what I can do, what would be the need for me? Rather than see this an act against my efficiency, I need to see it as an opportunity to be of use.

When I move the plastic lids to free up the space for a small ornamental bowl, I am contributing to this family. I am not being denied quality of life. I need to see my task as a gift of gratitude to those I love and not as stolen piece of mind. The piece of mind that will be lost is when I don’t have my wonderful husband and his wonder skills.

I don’t hold my husband close and tell him how lovely it is to be married to a very efficient man. Please let me give him a better reason to hold me close in return.

Humor, Parenting, Relationships

Silver Lining Fail and Some Unexpected Good Advice

November 1, 2020March 15, 2021by Sidewalk Face at Eagle-Crow-Owl2 Comments

I was talking to my mom on the phone yesterday and broached the holidays. I haven’t wanted to face it. She’s been coming here every year for 18 years. Not being together is a big deal. I said, well, maybe that’s the very unexpected silver lining of this horrible election season, I’m so upset about that I can’t be upset about Christmas. She says, good job turning lemons into unsweetened lemonade.

At least there’s humor.

She got it from my grandmother, who was a formidable woman. Maybe scary. She was a scary woman. She didn’t laugh so much as cackle. My grandmother was a Texan, the type that lived without air conditioning, in Texas. She and my grandfather lived on a farm/ranch as far away as the moon. It took a long time to get there. If, say, you forgot to get bread at the grocery store, then your dinner wasn’t going to have bread. It was three weeks to the nearest anything. My grandmother served dinner late. She said people will eat anything if they’re hungry enough. You can work out in your own mind whether or not she was a good cook.

If anyone told my grandmother what she “had” to do. Her reply was: I don’t have to do anything but die.

Okay grandma. Noted!

Back to my mom, I found the big insect on the day of the dead skull in the picture above while talking to her on the phone. I mostly call her while I walk the dogs because I like to walk and talk. I was telling her I wanted to take it home but feared it would get crushed in my purse. If you’ve been reading this blog, specifically the last three posts, you know my purse is currently NOT overstuffed! It’s actually understuffed. There was nothing hard and protective I could put this fragile fellow in. She suggests I blow air into a doggy poop bag and let the air be the protective barrier. Genius! It worked like a charm. Who else can I turn to for this level of quality advice? No one! I love you mom.

Happy Día Day Los Muertos. I never want you to be gone but you can rest assured that when you are, I will remember you.