Our Little Pack of Comfort

Dan brought home flowers for me yesterday.  “Look what I found in the street,” he said all winking and smiling and waving them like a blessing over me as I struggled to sit up from my couch-o-torture.  I LOVE flowers!  But I love this man more than any flower ever grown.  All this week, we’ve watched as America struggles under its Chicken Little falling sky, yet this lovely man makes certain I have flowers to cheer up our living room, and thus, my sorrowful, broken leg.

Last night we decided to turn off the torturous news to instead watch some uplifting blood and guts, murder and mayhem movie guaranteed to color anyone’s nightmares redder than our current bloody financial meltdown.  Halfway through the movie, Dan slid from the couch to lie on the floor, sandwiched between Scarlett and Wilson.

There we were, our little pack of creatures.  I maintained the high vantage point like I was looking out for storm clouds and cheetahs.  The rest of the pack stretched out, taking comfort on our small savanna of carpet, colored beige like an arid grassland.  Wilson is so long in the body now, all legs and big feet; nothing quiet around him when he’s awake.  Scarlett is long too, but manages to fold her legs under her as if she might need to spring up at any moment.

Yes, there we were, watching No Country For Old Men, swarthy actors chasing each other across our little screen, guns screaming through the television, dogs snoozing through it all … and yet, these amazingly tranquil flowers simply looked on from their place on the table.

For over two hours, we were simply stretched out in the comfort of each other.  Today it’s back to the messiness of this stupid economy … or the economy, stupid.  However you look at it, it’s a mess.  But a surprise bouquet of flowers, one damned good husband and two really good dogs somehow makes it all better. I think I can ride this couch one more day.

Be well everyone. Be well.


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