Pigeons in military uniforms lined the steep steps to the castle-like meeting hall. Startled by their presence, but undaunted, I hiked my grandson higher on my hip and tightened my grasp as I made my assent. It began to rain. About ten other stragglers to the meeting followed behind me. Disconcerted by our hubbub, and the storm, the pigeons quickly dropped their ranks and departed. “Not very good guard pigeons,” I told my unconcerned grandson. He gave me a knowing smile and rubbed his face on my shoulder in preparation for a nap. It was then that I noticed the cries of disgust from the others behind me. I’d been so absorbed in my destination, and in my grandson’s comfort, that I’d failed to notice the horrific scene that the pigeons had left in their wake. Mounds of their droppings covered the steps and beneath the droppings were hoards of writhing earthworms. My path was disgusting and slippery, but I hurried my pace and focused on the huge, gothic doors doors that grew nearer with every step. Finally, I reached the top and turned to see how the people behind me were faring. Far in the distance I could make out the forms of a handful who had turned away and retreated. Midway up the stairs, an older man was holding the arm of younger one who cleared his path to make it easier. A few steps behind me came two women who had resorted to crawling to avoid slipping. I reached out and helped both to the landing. The driving rain turned warm and we all stood there letting nature wash us clean of the dirt we’d collected. “I can’t believe you crawled in that mess!” I told the women with a smile. “Well, you walked barefoot in it,” one exclaimed. It was then I noticed that I wasn’t wearing shoes. We struggled together to open the huge doors. Inside were friends, food, laughter, hugs, warmth, and a familiar song that seemed to get closer and louder.
Of course, the song was my alarm. I lay there for a moment thinking about how amazing it is that my brain could take elements of my previous day to create a story to remind me of my own strength and resourcefulness. Things have felt out of control lately; a very ill kitty, worries about my adult kids, my husband’s impending eye surgery, my arthritis flare up and my disastrous eating and exercise regimen. Yet, I’m managing day-by-day to gracefully deal with my current worm (and sh*t) storm. I’m choosing to not notice discomfort and trudge on through whatever slime and goop life throws at me. Although it sounds completely cheesy, all we can do is “keep on keepin’ on!” And if you’re wondering how I ended up dreaming about pigeons in military uniforms here’s the formula:
Knitted chicken sweaters on Pinterest + Worries about what our new president might do = Military Pigeons!