The weather was nice Saturday, but the heat felt sudden and the haze of controlled burns loomed overhead. It was the first farmers’ market of the season in downtown Missoula and the annual Brewfest. I live right in the middle of it. People were out in hordes. I could not turn left onto the street that would take me to my dog walking client. I could feel my blood boil and wished I were rich enough to have a house out in a quiet area, preferably with a creek running outside my door.
I did squeeze into the right lane and took a long route to my little dog friend. Toffee is a chihuahua mix. I like him, not a yipper. He was not his usual chipper self, running out ahead of me on the leash. At a snail’s pace we walked, he took care of his business and that was that. I let his owner know he may not be feeling good.
The 85-year-old woman I have been caring for two hours a day on Saturdays and Sundays lives just blocks from Toffee. (I love it when life gives us those little conveniences) It’s only been four months since I’ve been caring for her but I feel we have known each other a long time. I have grown to love her. She sits in her recliner in the den with an open kitchen and dining area. She has a direct view of the front door and all that goes on. I come in, take off my shoes, and she shoots out, “Hello Frances, come tell me about your week.” I sit on the couch, excitedly saying, “I got to see a rehearsal performance of Cinderella this week.” Just a few weekends ago, we talked about Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella with Leslie Ann Warren as Cinderella. We sang, In My Own Little Corner while I prepared our avocado toast.
This day, she says a quiet hello. Sitting on the couch next to her chair, I notice she looks particularly tired. She asks me to read aloud from All Creatures Great and Small so she can close her eyes and listen. She only wants half a piece of avocado toast. As usual, we discuss whatever sad events our administration has brought upon this country. Now we are both tired and sad.
From her house, I go to the library for Montana Repertory Theater’s First Reads, a staged reading series of plays the theater is considering for production. A friend of mine is reading. The play is Eelout by Paul W. Kruse. The three main male characters are in an ice house celebrating a stag party. I enjoyed it and had some good laughs. Michael Legg, the artistic director, thanked us all for coming and shared some disconcerting news that the Rep has lost some of its funding. All the grief I’ve been feeling hit me in this moment. Needing to cry, I left as soon as Michael shared this news.
Back at the hotel where I live, Jen, a dear housemate, was leaving as I was coming in. When she hugged me, I let out a deep cry, “Everything is so fucked up.” As a government employee, she was hired for a remote job working from home. The government is now requiring her to work in an office and, she lives in fear of losing her job entirely. All this after she was finally able to buy a fixer-upper house.
Since I was meeting friends at the Wilma to see the comedian, Tiffany Haddish, I tried to nap to no avail. My friend, Susan, is a fan of comedians, so we treated her to Tiffany’s show. Susan has terminal cancer, and every opportunity to enjoy her, I take. Tucked back in the nose bleed section of the theater, laughing, Susan grabbed my hand, promising to look up turtles having sex, when Tiffany shared this as one of the sites she goes to take her mind off the troubles of the world. Tiffany’s rendition of the turtle noises had us crying with laughter.
It was good to laugh at the end of the day because sometimes, damnit, that’s all we can do.
But please do what you can; write your representatives, call them, donate to the arts, to PBS and NPR, and boycott unethical businesses.
Save Public Media
Boycott List
Thanks for reading, take care of yourselves and each other.
Frances
PS, if you want to check out turtles having sex, here you go: Turtles having sex. And imagine Tiffany Haddish on stage imitating them!
Fscottwrites 