Monday, June 6, 2016

Squirrel Holes and the Elusive Simplicity

I have been hunting the house looking for a concoction that last year, relieved my grass pollen allergies. It was so valuable, I must have put it in a safe place, but now I can't find it. I have searched all my squirrel holes, and I am stumped as to its whereabouts.

While searching those squirrel holes, I did find a few surprises. Happy surprises.

*$23 dollars in paper money
*A few dollars in coins
*One Euro coin and 20 centimes
*The tickets to a concert on July 16.
*Hats for this coming Christmas 2016
*Five pairs of Italian leather gloves purchased for the girls' Christmas 2016
*A doll from my childhood



I have spent at least two hours looking for this concoction and I'm bothered by the time it's taken away from more important things. The only other explanation to the loss, is to blame Tony.

One year he put the winter boots in a box and placed the box on top of the closets in the garage. For two years a brand new pair of high quality boots were missing. I spent as much time looking for those boots, wondering where I'd left them, only coming to the conclusion they had to have been stolen--who would have thought it was my husband.

I've tried to simplify my life, my possessions, so this kind of loss and confusion doesn't happen.

I'm fooling myself this can be done. I have a beautiful-souled daughter who keeps giving me complicated gifts that require care. The Mother's Day moss bath mat was a labor of love. This daughter hand cut a special rubber mat and hand cut the moss to fit. It took her two days.

The trade off for my daughter's labor is that something so simple as a shower has become rather complicated. I used to wait for warm water, jump in, lather, shave, shampoo, condition, grab a towel, dry off and dress. Shower time now includes opening the shower door just-right so the water run-off goes on the moss bath mat. I can only dry off my face so the rest of the water will drip on to the moss bath mat while I carefully step to make sure the run-off is equally distributed. I stand on different parts of the bath mat to make sure I don't wear down spots of moss. Then I have to gather the dirt that spilled out from the corners of moss. Yet, even my careful showering hasn't kept the moss bath mat in top form, so tonight, I made another trip downstairs to fill the water bottle and sat on the bathtub edge to spray the moss.

Going on vacation was always a way to simplify life, but now I have to find someone to care for my moss bath mat. At least it's not the dog.

Only five more days until we leave for the simple life of Paris. Yet this time, the Seine is flooding and last I checked they were preparing to evacuate the apartments around the Louvre. Uh huh.

The United States has issued a travel warning for Europe and more especially, France, because of the UEFA Soccer matches.

Today's frustrations, the future's uncertainty, both have me wondering if anything is simple, or even if  simple is worth living- if it's always been an illusion I erroneously envy, a pursuit which really requires the opposite of its name, a complicating pursuit in the quest for simple. Do I really want simple?

Options and choices are replete: loving daughters and trips to Paris aren't. To choose simplicity would sidestep the adventures and the sacrifice. It is in the mistaking of what is simple and what is not, in the lumping together of the mistakable commonality of the very different, even the opposite, that unsettles my soul. The fault is in not discerning the need for both: simple and not so simple. One could doom one's life to only the simple.

Therefore, I choose the complications of travel; I choose to support my daughter's art, squirt bottle et al.

I choose to forget the missing concoction and order a new one---now that is simple.

When life is simple, I will kick off my shoes and sit in an easy chair, my feet on the ottoman. When life is complicated, I will rush to the line to buy my ticket and fully participate.