THE SPRAY BOTTLE OF MY MIND

Around 11 this morning I was working up in the loft while girlsitting for the grandies when from downstairs I heard a wsssh! wsssh! wsssh! sound that reminded me a lot of a spray bottle being sprayed all over the place, which, were it so, would mean whatever liquid all over the oak floor of the living room, the woodstove, the windows-- the sight in my minds eye was not a pleasant one, so I rushed over to the loft railing, ready to tell one of the Krew to stop spraying whatever hopefully merely water-based solution was in whatever the container was, but as usual when it comes to my mind’s eye vs. the Krew’s reality control, I was way off.

Down below I saw Kaya hunched over on the floor with a small yellow whisk broom and dust pan, going along whisking up the corpses of dead ants (a tale for perhaps another time), the wssshy broom sound conjuring the spray bottle of my mind, while beside Kaya, observing this detailed procedure and bouncing up and down while seated on the big red yoga ball, was Mitsuki, wearing a Groucho mask.

No surprise there actually, they're all a bit theatrical. I took a picture for those who might doubt such surreal tales of rural grandfatherhood in another land. Amidst the spray bottles of mere imagining I am slowly adapting to the big red bouncing ball of Groucho-masked surreality that is grandies growing.

After lunch, for a change of pace we all went up into the forest, maskless and without the big red ball, to clean the stream and then wade our way back home to build a house for the panda. All in a galactic day's work.