I arrived home to quietness, where no parental units exist but the sounds of parakeets; proceeded to open my white plastic package with a utility scissor and found my seven (7) shirts individually taped up nicely like over filled eggrolls. I then checked the mailbox, pickuped the letters and sorted those but one magazine which is mine.
I warmed up the food — leftovers of mixed vegetables (celery, cauliflowers and brocolli from the local 99 Ranch Market); BBQ chicken and ‘Kali-Maw’s home-made pancit (which she cooked in failed hopes of ‘Squirrel-Ling’ picking up this dish for his co-worker, Ron). The pot of rice was already cooked but returned the container back into the warmer and poured some water into the rice to keep the bottom from frying and sticking to the bottom of the rice pot.
While in the dim of blue twilight filtered through the sliding door of the backyard, the table was set: three Corelle plates (with beige butterfly designs), spoons on the right and spoons on the left of the plates, hot plates from The Dollar Store; drinking glasses and ‘Shiva-Paw’s refrigerated pitcher of water purchased from the water store.
I knew my parental units were away to pick up my birthday cake because they are normally home by the time I get back from work, which today was mostly determining any activities on the open construction projects (by entering the project numbers, pushing two scren buttons, viewing the report and scrolling way down to compare the actual and estimated budget for each budget).
I grabbed my seven prized shirt and ran upstairs to log onto my favorite feeds and read each new contents rather quickly as usual and decided which ones I should ‘contribute’ my stinky smelly presence of opinions and beliefs. But before sitting down to another session of my daily dose of internet browsing, I turned up the heater and closed the wooden blinds (Hunter Douglas) to keep prying eyes from looking inside our home.
So, there I was viewing a photo (dated 06/15/2007) of the father and his son. I don’t know what came over me but I kept staring at the carrot-colored hair of the boy and then saw the father and how different he looks. I don’t know what ‘they’ did to him but I cried and had to quickly stifle the tears upon hearing the garage door slam from downstairs as an announcement of my parental unit’s arrival from Peter’s Bakery.
My eyes were red from the effects of my tears and I quickly washed my face and rubbed my eyes well with a blue washcloth. The water was cold and I had hoped this temperature was enough to bring the reddness and swelling of my eyes under control before going downstairs to greet my folks and eat with them.
Once the tears flows out of my eyes, the emotions remain within my system awhile longer and felt more tears well up in my eyes. I had to go the bathroom nearby to pretend blowing out my nose just to wipe more stray tears away. I believe my nose was slightly red, like pregnant women. And NO! I’m not pregnant nor have no plans to raise a family (yet).
So after dinner and almond cake dessert were eaten, dishes were washed and dried, parakeets were cleaned and feed, ‘Shiva-Paw’ was throwing the trash away while ‘Kali-Maw’ finished her ironing. I, on the other hand, ran upstairs to blog about my couple of hours (05:30PM to 07:30PM) and posted my ‘tears of joy’ comment on his website and another in response to a member’s inquiry on the other’s website.
Being home alone is great as long as I have my internet connection and my hands for typing stuff online. This means I could cry outloud and not embarrass myself in front of people. There is no reason to feel alone knowing that there is always something else to distract my beautiful mind — like pics and videos.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
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