Early next morning, I found Riri out front poking in the garden, exploring and sniffing, admiring gorgeous cream-colored lilies as big as his head. He spun 360 degrees while looking up at the advance scouts for the radiant pink clouds of phlox that would soon follow.
When he noticed me, it seemed he had something on his mind…Before I could compliment his “boogiein’”, he spoke, “You wife… differ… nice bumps… smell good…Where I come we all not differ…what is difference between wife…from planet else?”
“Sometimes…er…there was this book,” I began to answer, while contemplating a diagram of certain planets of our solar system. Not only would pop psychology confuse the issue, if I were to be taken literally, but it simply would not be worthy of a sincere mutual desire for communication and understanding.
I was spared the challenge of explaining that women were not from some other planet else, because Diane’s flowers had also made an impression on our guest. He was distracted by their beauty, and not really inclined to pay attention to my mars/venus speech. He wandered away, then stopped suddenly and crouched. As he disappeared in the distinctive foliage of daylilies, I could see by the direction of his attention that a bunny had emerged to nibble weeds (a rabbit I would tolerate as long as it stuck to munching on the persistent violets that seemed to reproduce like bunnies in the gravel pathways). Foliage soon showed signs of movement towards the critter, ceasing at the edge of the daylily bed less than two feet from the unsuspecting weeder.
As I watched expectantly from a bench, there was what sounded like a sneeze and some commotion in the foliage. The lttle bunny froze for a moment , then skittered away disappearing under dense plantings by the weathered fence
Riri came running (actually,more like hurried waddling…“Did you see?” Did you see?” “What it was?”
What I saw was that there would be yet another digression interfering with my desire to understand an unprecedented (cosmic?) connection…What I said was “rabbit, that’s a rabbit in our garden…we don’t happy rabbits in gardens…
Apparently satisfied, Riri wandered away without another word, poking and sniffing once more, while scanning for bunny rabbits. He faded slowly, very gradually, as he wandered, disappearing completely as he left the garden aiming for a squirrel on the lawn…
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
7 "nice bumps"...it's ok to have too much fun
How to prepare my wife??? I was excited, but my story was preposterous, and the evidence to support it was, at the very least, suspicious. On top of that, Diane is one of those who thrive on certainty and concreteness, and is inclined to prepare very conscientiously for company. The thought that something as unusual as a small extra-terrestrial creature could show up whenever Now was, might take her around a bend I'd be reluctant to follow.
As it turned out, whether it was because the possibility of preparedness was not an option, or more likely, because she didn't take me seriously, she was very relaxed that evening when he showed up. We were just sitting down to watch one of those TV dance shows, when a thwack of the screen door closing followed by shuffling sounds from the front porch signaled a visitor.
There was no way to have prepared anyone for what followed.
"Hi...welcome"..."hi," he murmured shyly as he entered clutching a haphazard, but beautiful, bunch of utterly familiar flowers that a few minutes before had been thriving in Diane's much cared for perennial beds that welcomed friends to our home. Offering the awkward bouquet of random length stems, he gazed up at my spellbound spouse, and said softly, "Nice bumps!"......He then turned to me, saying, with a bit of confidence earned by what he had considered an appropriate compliment, "You Diana, she very good bumps...nice"... And then back to Diane, reaching to shake hands just as she was realizing which bumps he was admiring..."Me Riri , nice bum"/"yesthanksvase, vase, I'll get a vase!" I couldn't help smiling as she groped for a container,, nearly dropping the arrangement. I met Diane's sideways "what's goin' on?" glance with a weak shrug, as Riri, without invitation made directly in search of the source of the dramatic Latin rhythms emanating from the family room...After exchanging perplexed glances once more, we followed uncertainly......
The awkward prospect of sitting and visiting with what had morphed from a shy curiosity into an "800 lb. gorilla in the room" was however, quickly dispelled. Before we could sit down the hilarious response of our diminutive guest to an Argentine tango had us in stitches. Swaying to the dynamic rhythms soon led to gyrating on the arm of the recliner, and then, to sashaying back and forth on the back of the loveseat. We were informed that this was his first exposure to "life" music and dancing and that he couldn't understand the concept of watching dancing. "Why do that?...crazyearthguys...dancin' is dancin'...I boogie dude"... It was immediately clear that there was no way we were gone sit down like "crazyearthguys...When the program ended an hour later, we were informed he "coulda dancin' all night" (we couldna). Riri's joyful jitterbug had been "off-the-wall" (I mean walls)...His waltz wasn't what you would call graceful, but it kinda sorta flowed, and an emphatic cha cha cha was right up there with the tango. When the last notes faded, so did our visitor, continuing to waltz til he flopped on a cushion, soon vanishing, without a word.
A quick survey revealed that nothing had been damaged or broken, although our sides hurt from laughing. Diane and I, still smiling, wearily slowdanced to lingering vibrations, 'til they too gradually melted away into the stillness of a very dark night..."Nice bumps, babe".....
Who was it, said, "It's ok to have too much fun!"?
It is ok to have too much fun!
As it turned out, whether it was because the possibility of preparedness was not an option, or more likely, because she didn't take me seriously, she was very relaxed that evening when he showed up. We were just sitting down to watch one of those TV dance shows, when a thwack of the screen door closing followed by shuffling sounds from the front porch signaled a visitor.
There was no way to have prepared anyone for what followed.
"Hi...welcome"..."hi," he murmured shyly as he entered clutching a haphazard, but beautiful, bunch of utterly familiar flowers that a few minutes before had been thriving in Diane's much cared for perennial beds that welcomed friends to our home. Offering the awkward bouquet of random length stems, he gazed up at my spellbound spouse, and said softly, "Nice bumps!"......He then turned to me, saying, with a bit of confidence earned by what he had considered an appropriate compliment, "You Diana, she very good bumps...nice"... And then back to Diane, reaching to shake hands just as she was realizing which bumps he was admiring..."Me Riri , nice bum"/"yesthanksvase, vase, I'll get a vase!" I couldn't help smiling as she groped for a container,, nearly dropping the arrangement. I met Diane's sideways "what's goin' on?" glance with a weak shrug, as Riri, without invitation made directly in search of the source of the dramatic Latin rhythms emanating from the family room...After exchanging perplexed glances once more, we followed uncertainly......
The awkward prospect of sitting and visiting with what had morphed from a shy curiosity into an "800 lb. gorilla in the room" was however, quickly dispelled. Before we could sit down the hilarious response of our diminutive guest to an Argentine tango had us in stitches. Swaying to the dynamic rhythms soon led to gyrating on the arm of the recliner, and then, to sashaying back and forth on the back of the loveseat. We were informed that this was his first exposure to "life" music and dancing and that he couldn't understand the concept of watching dancing. "Why do that?...crazyearthguys...dancin' is dancin'...I boogie dude"... It was immediately clear that there was no way we were gone sit down like "crazyearthguys...When the program ended an hour later, we were informed he "coulda dancin' all night" (we couldna). Riri's joyful jitterbug had been "off-the-wall" (I mean walls)...His waltz wasn't what you would call graceful, but it kinda sorta flowed, and an emphatic cha cha cha was right up there with the tango. When the last notes faded, so did our visitor, continuing to waltz til he flopped on a cushion, soon vanishing, without a word.
A quick survey revealed that nothing had been damaged or broken, although our sides hurt from laughing. Diane and I, still smiling, wearily slowdanced to lingering vibrations, 'til they too gradually melted away into the stillness of a very dark night..."Nice bumps, babe".....
Who was it, said, "It's ok to have too much fun!"?
It is ok to have too much fun!
Monday, November 16, 2009
6 –now what?…ice cream melts…what now?
His approach to time remains a stretch for me. Intellectually I get it… time… always Now…but how can one live like that …always in the present…How could you make plans or schedules ?!!
What a character: sensitive, curious, alert, intelligent, persistent, invisible…and… likeable. After a few brief encounters, barely having scratched the surface , I already felt like I knew him in a friendly sort of way
“You like?”
Startled, I turned, and found myself being offered a triple chocolate Dove bar…it had begun to soften, but was still quite manageable …
“Edygrandslowallchurnednaturallightfrenchsilk too much wet!” he declared, “love Dove…I burrow” (again I was afraid to ask where)…He commented, while watching intently as I unwrapped my treat…”Not eat skin? Huh!”
As I explained further, that the “bone” made a good handle, he burped, then, ripping and tearing, dispatched several, reluctant to not eat the “bone” as well. As he tossed the papers I noticed that there appeared to be a wad of a well-chewed “skin” at his three-toed feet. Although I couldn’t help smiling, I felt some anxiety creeping in…I was becoming impatient with the sit-com aspect of his brief appearances. Opportunities for serious exchanges to educate each other about what had suddenly become, at least for me, a different sort of universe, were precious. Time might be Now, but it felt like it was slipping away. How many more opportunities could there, would there, be? I shared my concern as he licked his fingers (three, and an opposable thumb, like in cartoons). His response was a burp once more, and then, “Meet wife? Meet you wife, Now.”
“I…she…,” I hesitated, as he began to dissolve…
“Now…”
“See you,” I whispered…
What a character: sensitive, curious, alert, intelligent, persistent, invisible…and… likeable. After a few brief encounters, barely having scratched the surface , I already felt like I knew him in a friendly sort of way
“You like?”
Startled, I turned, and found myself being offered a triple chocolate Dove bar…it had begun to soften, but was still quite manageable …
“Edygrandslowallchurnednaturallightfrenchsilk too much wet!” he declared, “love Dove…I burrow” (again I was afraid to ask where)…He commented, while watching intently as I unwrapped my treat…”Not eat skin? Huh!”
As I explained further, that the “bone” made a good handle, he burped, then, ripping and tearing, dispatched several, reluctant to not eat the “bone” as well. As he tossed the papers I noticed that there appeared to be a wad of a well-chewed “skin” at his three-toed feet. Although I couldn’t help smiling, I felt some anxiety creeping in…I was becoming impatient with the sit-com aspect of his brief appearances. Opportunities for serious exchanges to educate each other about what had suddenly become, at least for me, a different sort of universe, were precious. Time might be Now, but it felt like it was slipping away. How many more opportunities could there, would there, be? I shared my concern as he licked his fingers (three, and an opposable thumb, like in cartoons). His response was a burp once more, and then, “Meet wife? Meet you wife, Now.”
“I…she…,” I hesitated, as he began to dissolve…
“Now…”
“See you,” I whispered…
Monday, November 9, 2009
5 - seeing is believing - some of what I've seen is believable
Finding an empty cardboard ice cream sandwich container on the kitchen floor lifted my mood briefly. Picture an orangey little character from outer space devouring five or six ice cream sandwiches on your kitchen floor. Finally, after four days, there was tangible evidence, which though it might not be admissible in the courtroom of a spouse, at least reassured me that what I was experiencing was real. However, as hours passed, and the visitor did not reappear , my disappointment and sadness grew.
When he didn't show the next day, as well, I was feeling terrible. it was so unnecessary for him to be frightened. My inability to do anything other than wait and hope was frustrating. It began to dawn on me the following morning that what I was missing wasn't simply the adventure of this exotic and unprecedented kind of experience. There was something about his way, his take on experiencing our land and culture, his insights that seemed to blend wisdom and innocence. I wanted to hear more...
And, just at that moment, I did!
I sorrow I burrow too much ice cream. You like edygrandslowchurnedlight-frenchsilkallnatural? I get some. I burrow else (I didn't ask)...it tooo gooood.
My enthusiastic response frightened the little fella as he extended a soggy half-gone half-gallon offering, in part, to protect himself. It was clear that he had eaten a generous amount and that what remained was melting...It wet , he explained with a shrug, and an awkward smile.
I begged him not to disappear anymore and was there a way for me to get in touch and how much I liked his visits and that I hoped we could keep talking I'll get some bowls and spoons how long will you be around will you meet my wife?!
He cut me off with "carefulhaircutguys liking ice cream?"... Hard to think... hard for seeing...I prefer visit you too. I be back. See you Now?
I was left with my wondering, again, when he would show up, and this time, about "carefulhaircutguys" as well. Where and how could he have experienced such an image? Who was he talking about?? carefulhaircutguys....
When he didn't show the next day, as well, I was feeling terrible. it was so unnecessary for him to be frightened. My inability to do anything other than wait and hope was frustrating. It began to dawn on me the following morning that what I was missing wasn't simply the adventure of this exotic and unprecedented kind of experience. There was something about his way, his take on experiencing our land and culture, his insights that seemed to blend wisdom and innocence. I wanted to hear more...
And, just at that moment, I did!
I sorrow I burrow too much ice cream. You like edygrandslowchurnedlight-frenchsilkallnatural? I get some. I burrow else (I didn't ask)...it tooo gooood.
My enthusiastic response frightened the little fella as he extended a soggy half-gone half-gallon offering, in part, to protect himself. It was clear that he had eaten a generous amount and that what remained was melting...It wet , he explained with a shrug, and an awkward smile.
I begged him not to disappear anymore and was there a way for me to get in touch and how much I liked his visits and that I hoped we could keep talking I'll get some bowls and spoons how long will you be around will you meet my wife?!
He cut me off with "carefulhaircutguys liking ice cream?"... Hard to think... hard for seeing...I prefer visit you too. I be back. See you Now?
I was left with my wondering, again, when he would show up, and this time, about "carefulhaircutguys" as well. Where and how could he have experienced such an image? Who was he talking about?? carefulhaircutguys....
Monday, November 2, 2009
4–Ice cream…we all scream…nice dream…ice cream
God!?…who is going to believe this …? Who would? Have I lost my mind? Who could…? Now… Blabbermacallits…Carefulhaircutguys…God…what next?...
“Ice cream!”
I jumped. The little mind-boggler had materialized, this time, next to me, as I sat at the café table at the edge of our garden, early next morning ,with a strong, sweet, morning coffee. Had this guy been reading my mind... a mind that I was apparently in danger of losing? The delicious warmth of the coffee and admiration of neat dewy rows of late spring lettuces and broccoli and swelling lily buds had been helping to ground me (sort of) but, now, what…?
“Oh!...er….uh…hi…good morning…ice cream? Have a sit… Ice cream…? What about it?”
“Ice creammmm, love ice cream,” he repeated, conjuring recollections of Cookie Monster. “Ice cream too good…merry good…I like…”
“Yeah, me too…how…do you know about ice cream?...where did you get some?”
He looked somewhat uncomfortable as he mumbled, “Door open…I burrow,” and gestured in the direction of our kitchen. “Love ice cream…I burrow…”
“You what?!”
He shrank suddenly and disappeared, this time with an audible pop!
“Wait!” I felt terrible…I wasn’t angry at all, just surprised…and I was so relieved when after a few minutes, he reemerged rather tentatively, and careful to keep a large prickly rosebush between us. I gestured, saying, “it’s ok, I’m not mad” He remained defensive, approaching slowly, seemingly ready to “pop” if threatened.
“Love ice cream…where get?” he asked, relaxing slightly.
“oh, don’t worry, you can have as much as you like…we can get some more…help yourself…”
But, fearful tension returned with a belch, as he cringed, and repeated meekly, “I burrow…all gone…”. This time he faded as if in slow motion, with a soft “I sorrow” in the middle…
“Ice cream!”
I jumped. The little mind-boggler had materialized, this time, next to me, as I sat at the café table at the edge of our garden, early next morning ,with a strong, sweet, morning coffee. Had this guy been reading my mind... a mind that I was apparently in danger of losing? The delicious warmth of the coffee and admiration of neat dewy rows of late spring lettuces and broccoli and swelling lily buds had been helping to ground me (sort of) but, now, what…?
“Oh!...er….uh…hi…good morning…ice cream? Have a sit… Ice cream…? What about it?”
“Ice creammmm, love ice cream,” he repeated, conjuring recollections of Cookie Monster. “Ice cream too good…merry good…I like…”
“Yeah, me too…how…do you know about ice cream?...where did you get some?”
He looked somewhat uncomfortable as he mumbled, “Door open…I burrow,” and gestured in the direction of our kitchen. “Love ice cream…I burrow…”
“You what?!”
He shrank suddenly and disappeared, this time with an audible pop!
“Wait!” I felt terrible…I wasn’t angry at all, just surprised…and I was so relieved when after a few minutes, he reemerged rather tentatively, and careful to keep a large prickly rosebush between us. I gestured, saying, “it’s ok, I’m not mad” He remained defensive, approaching slowly, seemingly ready to “pop” if threatened.
“Love ice cream…where get?” he asked, relaxing slightly.
“oh, don’t worry, you can have as much as you like…we can get some more…help yourself…”
But, fearful tension returned with a belch, as he cringed, and repeated meekly, “I burrow…all gone…”. This time he faded as if in slow motion, with a soft “I sorrow” in the middle…
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