Not a lot to say here lately; nothing but a persistent jangling in the Brain Department. I testified Wednesday on the negligent management practices of my former business partner. Hard to believe it's been five years since I've suffered her presence, and in the courtroom she wouldn't meet my gaze. Interestingly enough, this was a divorce trial -- and I was a witness for her husband. The plaintiff is seeking big $$$ in addition to that which she's already pilfered, fraudulently, from her husband's bank account. There's more than a fair amount of bona-fide crazy behavior going on here -- crazy in the belongs-at-Western-State-Hospital department. Either that or a nice spartan little cell somewhere far, far away. (I vote for the cell.)
Sitting in the witness stand comes with its own agitation (thus the jangling). The attorney asked me questions on specific matters other than those for which he prepped me, so I had to think fast, and answer fast. And then the cross-examination, which, mercifully, was brief. It was the most I've seen of an actual courtroom outside of Law & Order. Needless to say, I am really glad it's over.
And it's pale comfort that I'm not the only person who fell victim to her 'charms'. I'm reminded by my husband that people like her excel at this type of manipulation. I can only imagine how many others have endured her predations.
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And then we have my friend Carol, who I miss every day, and she's not even been gone a week. Already there's a list of things I want to discuss with her, tell her about. I want to make her laugh. I want her to make me laugh with her sharp, dry wit. Her take on the world always put everything in perspective, and I never left an encounter with her -- however brief -- without feeling better about something, without having my faith in the universe restored.
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(This is the place in the blog entry where I emit a sigh: sigh.)
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Two days in a row now there's been a starling on the wire outside the studio at work, belting out quite the fantastic string of melodies. When I stand out on the side walk and look up at it, the singing stops. Yesterday I made some chirruping sounds in his/her direction, and the bird mimicked them back to me. As disliked as these birds are, I never tire of their persistent chatty conversations. I always think of them as a kind of avian Tower of Babel when they gather in great numbers and shriek, wheeze, whistle, rattle and engage in their usual clickety-clackety brouhaha.
So I just want to say thank-you, starling.
Tough week, T.Clear. Funny how nature - especially birds and animals - can lift us out of a funk by being themselves. I once had an abandoned starling fledgling fall in love with me - I fed it and taught it how to find food and then let it go... next day I was hanging out the washing and it landed on my shoulder and pecked my ear wanting food. Sadly, after I fed it once, it flew into the windows and died. How I cried. There are some great starling poems on Tuesday Poet Bryan Walpert's blog. Courage (as the French say)!
ReplyDeleteMary, how lucky you were to have the starling friend, and how completely sad to witness its death. I'll check out Bryan Walpert's poems! Thanks.
ReplyDeleteTough week indeed. But ya done good, my friend!
ReplyDeleteTough wanting to talk with Carol...as you well know, this desire will last a long time. I do 'talk' with my loved ones who are no longer here. They don't talk back, though, but it is still a comfort.
Glad your little starling friend brought you some joy!
PS - I vote for a cell, too! No doubt the soon to be ex husband will as well.
Bless you and your capaciousness, T.
ReplyDeleteWhat a hugely demanding time you've been having, and you so present to it all.
Take best care; rest and sigh and sleep.
Thinking of you and esp. your missing of Carol.
You honour her in this, but how sore it is for you.
xx
The cell is the epitome of what we can come with as a G-rated response. But given a bottle of wine and our devious minds, I know we can come up with just desserts not printable here!
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