I had the perfect afternoon, rare and wonderful!

Actually, the whole weekend was pretty good. It started Friday, when I had lunch with my friends Matt and Andrea, who were visiting from Wyoming and whom I hadn’t seen since last December: lots of laughter and stimulating conversation.

I came home to find my favorite kids, their parents, and their dog at the house. Nephew, niece, and I spent some quality time with the kitties and then looking at lobster images (and I tried to explain in ways comprehensible to a four-year-old what Google is, how a search works, how lobsters are eaten, and why I have a television in my bedroom). Then I tried to take a nap.

My two-year-old niece had other ideas. First she decided to “nap” with me, which meant she wanted to see all my tattoos several times. Then she began chanting to herself, “Green… blue… orange… pink… green… pink… blue… Daddy… [her brother’s name]… me… Mommy… [brother’s name]….” Then she jumped up and declared brightly, “Nap over!” I told her my nap wasn’t over, and she asked why. I told her I was tired. She asked why. I was too tired to try to explain insomnia.

So I settled in for my real nap. I had just fallen asleep when footsteps in the hall woke me up, and then my door creaked open. There stood my niece. “I have to go potty,” she informed me. It took me a moment to realize this translated into “I have to go potty, and I refused help from anyone else in order to come upstairs and seek your assistance.” I felt loved, flattered, and irritated all at once.

My brother and sister-in-law had gone shopping, and I figured the kids wouldn’t let me sleep until their parents returned. As my mom said, “No rest for the wicked.” So I went downstairs, to where the kids were watching movies, and tried to pass out on the sofa. When he saw me there, my nephew came over and spread his blanket on top of me. My niece followed him, climbed onto my prone body, and started bouncing and giggling riotously.

Eventually I did get my nap, and after dinner my sister-in-law and I went clothes shopping, and she talked me out of buying a gargoyle on the very logical grounds that a) I don’t need it, b) I have nowhere to put it, and c) I can’t afford it. Someday…sigh…

Then my brother and I forced her to watch Scream with us. He’d seen it a long time ago, she’d never seen it, and I have half of it memorized. I don’t think she enjoyed it quite as much as we did, although she did make it through the entire movie. My brother and I have a long tradition of enjoying horror movies, especially bad and/or clever ones, and occasionally we can convince her to join us. I fully intend to make her sit through Scream 2, 3, and 4 at some future time. (I watched 2 last night and have 3 playing right now.)

Yesterday was pretty laid back. I helped my dad and his friend for a bit — they’re building a deck in the back yard — and did the usual Saturday-after-payday trip to the thrift store. I also finished reading Helen Dunmore’s Talking to the Dead, which was stark, beautiful, and troubling, the kind of novel that haunts you and leaves you with a sense of loss when you finish it.

Today started with the Friends of the Library’s semi-annual book sale, and because it was the last day, you could get a paper grocery bag full of books for $5. Anyone who knows me can imagine just how much fun that is! The volunteers kept remarking that the selection was picked over, but considering how much I still found (and how much my to-read stack of books grew as a result!), it’s probably good I didn’t go earlier. I ended up closing the sale, last customer standing; as the volunteers remarked, the shoppers got pretty sparse around the time the Broncos game started.

On the way home, I noticed what a beautiful afternoon it was, how incredible the sunlight looked on and through the fall leaves. I thought about taking a drive in the mountains but decided instead to walk around the neighborhood with my camera. (All the photos in this entry are from that ramble.) I shot leaves and Halloween decor and met a woman a few streets over who has four shar-peis, two of them adopted from National Mill Dog Rescue. We chatted for awhile, about her dogs and how much we love October and how we miss Georgia (turns out she spent almost a year in Atlanta). Then I finished my walk just in time to watch the Broncos win their game. Yes, even I am susceptible to football fever.

During the walk, I had my iPod on shuffle, and some of the songs that came up evoked bad memories, as they often do. But I had the rare and pleasant sensation of listening to those songs, appreciating them for the beauty that drew me to them during the bad times, yet looking back at those days without feeling bitter or angry or sorrowful.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a day that felt so good (although the June afternoon I spent at the zoo with my nephew might qualify), let alone an entire weekend. I think a major reason for this is because I’ve been sleeping better and without artificial aids. Over the past three or four weeks, I’ve tried Nyquil, Dramamine, Benadryl, some poppy mixture from Whole Foods, and valerian root. Some things work some of the time, but they usually make me groggy the next day, too. I’ve lost so much time trying to sleep, then sleeping, then being a zombie because I haven’t slept, and trying to sleep some more.

And finally something has worked.

I discovered, sort of accidentally, that I can fall asleep with my dog. He’s not allowed on furniture or in my room (house rules, not mine), but it turns out I can sleep much better on the floor with him resting against my side than I can in my soft, comfortable bed. I still don’t fall asleep immediately, but his presence seems to provide a focus that helps me relax. When I start panicking I can feel his warm weight pressing against my arm, and it’s a tangible center for my thoughts. He sleeps as melodramatically as he does everything: twitches, kicks, groans, snores. Cats at rest exude a sublime peace; my dog’s energy bursts out even when he isn’t conscious. Even during his most frenetic dreams, though, he soothes me enough to let me sleep.

For all he has brought to my life, all the fun and laughter and love, right now I am most grateful for this: the gift of sleep.