SADDLE SHOES

A Journal Entry - Shadow, Cities, and Saddle Shoes

9/18/2014   a nuffing day

Shadow likes to push things off my desk, and  I've rewarded her because if she concentrates on that she stops licking and biting my arm. She thinks I'm another kitten.  Now she's getting aggressive and wants to push everything off the desk. Whole piles of papers go flying to the floor. Yesterday she tried to push the stapler off and it's plugged in.  Help!

Two things I want: 

• I want to live in a city where the shops and restaurants are downstairs -- little shops where the stuff is expensive so I get to spend a lot of time looking -- and where there's a green grocer who knows what I like -- and where I can buy flowers every day, and maybe a new scarf to hold down my hair when the wind whips through between the buildings.   I want a clothesline on a pulley above the alley that I can share with my neighbor in the next building.  I want a bathtub with feet, a heavy door that says 5B, a doormat that says WELCOME, and no scary elevator.                                                                                
• I want to wear saddle
  
  shoes again.  I was happy most of the time when I wore saddle shoes.  The grief started then, but I didn't know what it was, so I pushed it away and went back to being happy when I wore my saddle shoes. Nobody teaches you grief, and if they try, don't listen. You have to figure it out for yourself.  Everybody does it but nobody knows how, especially a kid.  It's mostly stumbling around in the dark. Crying's good, but it isn't a cure. Reminiscing is good, but it isn't a cure. Writing it all down helps, but it isn't a cure. Lashing out at other people gets rid of some pent up feelings, but it isn't a cure. Staying busy and being with people you like is the #1 good, but it isn't a cure. I guess there is no cure, so put on your saddle shoes.  You can be happy most of the time.