Wednesday, July 28, 2021
Still Thinking About...
Two weeks and a day ago, I took a picture of this... what is it? Needlepoint? I took a picture of this needlepoint dog, on a shelf in a second hand shop. I even picked it up, and felt drawn to it, but then put it back, because if I bring home every last thing I am drawn to, I will be an entire season of some reality hoarding program. But I can't stop thinking of it, of my doggo, as I've come to call it. What kind of dog is this? An airedale? And how do I know so much about dog breeds? I recognize a lot of dog breeds and car makes, and neither of those subjects are ones I consider significantly dear to my heart. I regret that I didn't bring home my doggo. I would have it hanging up, maybe by the desk where I paint, or at the top of the stairs. Somehow, it feels like it belongs with me, and I come back to it again, and again. Maybe someone else saw it, too, and it's not even possible for me to adopt any more. But. Maybe it's still on the shelf, left side, as you enter, at Village Merchants, on SE Division. Maybe I should give them a call.
10:32 am They're not picking up.
11: 03 am Cat answered, and with a brief description of the piece, and where I saw it, she was quick to locate it, and confirm, it's a good dog. But. They don't have online shopping, or a means of sending it to me, and she asked, "Do you have any friends in Portland?" Do I? Here, I would add the tear-faced, then sweat-browed emoticons.
11:13 am Text message to ______, an Instagram friend/aquaintance, person I admire. I try to assure her that she's not obliged, no pressure. Waiting.
11:22 am Should I post on Instagram, a general shout-out to all local aquaintances, people I have never met, in hopes of finding the one person available and willing? Biggest reluctance is about confirming that I am too weird, and am met by a deafening silence, and the dread feeling of embarrassment, and mortification.
11:44 Puanani might be able to get over to the shop, today, if not, then tomorrow. Can Cat hold it for me??
11:50 Cat will hold it. And. So... I just have to settle down, and wait. This escalated, fast.
I think about this fruit, overhanging the fence between the house we stayed in and the neighbor's garden. What is it? Okay, maybe they're apples? But there was something different about them, something that made me think they are a fruit I am not familiar with. Of course they could be an apple variety I don't know about. Did you know? There 7,500 different apples, and about 2,500 of those grow in the United States. I am going to search some other things... Rarest apple: "Bardsey Island Apple." Oldest apple: "Annurca Apple." How many varities grow in Oregon: "Over 21 varieties are produced in Oregon, and Gala and Fuji are the most grown." Top 10 apple producers: "Washington, New York, Michigan, Pennsylvania, California, Virginia, North Carolina, Oregon, Ohio, and Idaho."
Well. I had planned to share more things about Portland, that I am still thinking about, but now my thoughts have turned to obsession, and I can only think of that embroidered dog, on hold, at Village Merchant. It might, very likely, come home to me, after all, which is doubly special, because I do, indeed, have a friend in Portland, and that is wonderful to know.
12:19 My Instagram plea, and a very happy update...
This was hard for me... asking, making myself vulnerable, resisting the internalized mean voice saying, "Don't make a pain of yourself. Don't be annoying." I am trying to internalize another voice and narrative, one that reminds me that "my comfort zone is not a good benchmark," and "it's ok to have needs, to make requests, and ask for help or favors," and of course "the answer will always be 'No," if we never ask." And as I was sorting this all out a new message came through Instagram. Puanani went out of her way, and she's already adopted my doggo for me!