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Tour des dieux mal construite!

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Ecrit par Hikari le 19/09/2012 03h26
The house was peaceful; a clissac Wednesday afternoon in September. Husband at work, kids at school. Kitchen clean, counters and living room both freed from the mischellaneous objects lying around that can only be explained by two teenagers. Ah. These are the afternoons a busy mother desires and craves. A peaceful house, just for a few hours. To stay clean and quiet, just for a few hours. It was in these stolen afternoon hours that I would usually paint in the sunroom. The scratch of my old bristly-haired brushes against the canvas was the most controllable and relaxing sound I could think of. There in the sunroom, with my easel and my sweet afternoon sun. Those were the days, more rejuvinating than even the best of naps.Then we got Basil.What is Basil, you may ask? Basil is a plant, yes. But he is also our recently acquired Australian Shepherd mix. Mixed with who knows what. A homeless human, probably. Firework shy; he somehow ended up in our private, fenced-in backyard after all the fourth of July festivities this summer. My son actually found him the next morning, curled up in the hydrangeas. He was a mess. For being from such a gorgeous breed, he had a strange, messy air about him. If he were a human; he'd be dredlocked and organic , with a few liberal phrases to rant about I'm sure. Of course my son loved him immediately, and I couldn't argue that we had gone dog-less for quite a while. But this dog? Really? Sigh. Why my son named him Basil, I can only guess. Probably for simple lack of a better word but he must have been thinking of food as well, considering that is our most used herb when cooking.Basil settled in quickly and quietly, sleeping in my son's room and moving about the house as if he had been there for years. I have to admit, I didn't mind his company. Though he still looked like a war veteran gone hippie, his presence was nice. He was calm, especially for an Australian Shepherd mix, and watchful.I had gotten used to his company in the afternoons; he being lazy while I painted or did things around the house. It was strange, but I almost felt like he was observing everything I did, with an intelligent eye. He would stare at my canvas with me while I sat back and thought about colors, and detail. He would squint his eyes a little bit even, like I did sometimes.That Wednesday afternoon, Basil came into the sunroom where I was painting, per our usual routine. He hopped up onto the ottoman and curled into a neat ball, sighing as he found his spot. I was standing, brush in hand, staring at my half-painted canvas, stuck on the current acrylic project before me. You might want to take a break from it, if you have no idea what you want to do next. I swung around wildly, looking for the man's voice that just spoke. What?? Who's there? Where are you?? I was more than confused. Sigh. Over here, on the ottoman. I've been here every day for almost two months now. I just stared. Basil was looking at me with patient eyes, but he was clearly a little irritated. Don't get me wrong, I really like this one. I like that you're doing this painting as a panoramic, I don't think I've seen one of yours like that before. Also, the landscape you've chosen is just beautiful. Greece, is it? For your friend, whatshername, I remember her talking about it here one day. Oh, she'll just love it. But you've obviously reached a tough point, you've been standing there for at least half an hour that I've noticed. You should put it down, maybe do something else for a little while. You'll only get more frustrated if you keep standing there, staring your canvas down. I kept staring at him. Maybe my blood sugar was low. Oh, and I have to tell you, I mean, I've been itching to talk so I might as well, that your son smokes pot. What? No he doesn't, I would know. Even if my blood sugar was low, I had to address this. Well he does. Sorry. He didn't seem very sorry. And how would you know this? You're a dog. It came out a little more incredulously than intended. I would know this because I've seen it. He does it in his room. He blows the smoke right into my face. I'm an AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD mix, come'on, since when are those dogs calm?? He had a good point.



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