Good Fortune 500

For Manny, it was the equivalent of a delicious roll in rabbit shit without having to be tossed outside as if he were, say, a dog. It was 4:30 in the morning, and we were doing laundry. The sweet aroma of worn underwear and socks, itself enticing (to him, not me), was suddenly no match for the pungent vapors seeping through the porous brick exterior of our house into the mud room. A skunk had clearly taken aim, and all that stood between us and a good soak in tomato juice, dishwashing liquid, and baking soda was the door to the side yard. Funny, it hasn't been much use as a door for several years, stuck as it is in the shut position.  And though I have learned over the years to never let a closed door interfere with my dreams, I was quite content to allow this one to thwart the nightmare that is a direct skunk hit.

Often, in the middle of the night, I lie awake contemplating the many ways in which I have wronged my children. Sometimes, for a change of pace, I lie awake contemplating how I have wronged other people. No doubt, my children -- and those other people -- lie awake on occasion as well, contemplating the ways in which I have wronged them. At least we're all on the same page. Even the neighborhood skunks try to get in on the action every now and then, punish me somehow for what I have done.

But that door, welded shut to keep me and Manny inside and relatively unscathed while Pepe le Pew flipped its tail at us, has become a symbol to me. A symbol of hope, of auspicious beginnings, of a rosy future that most assuredly will not be cut short by the dire consequences predicted as a result of the Mayans having run out of ink to complete their calendar. Life may be filled with narrow escapes, but it will go on, and it will be free of foul odors and baths in tomato juice. Even days that begin inauspiciously with pre-dawn trips to the laundry room will show signs of optimism and good tidings. When I run into a closed door, I will know, from now forward, that it is closed for good reason

I plan to take full advantage of the hope offered up by that door yesterday morning, take advantage of the shift in perspective one always enjoys after a narrow escape from disaster. Yesterday, with a renewed sense of purpose, I got off to a good start. I finally ordered my new business cards, I finally created my web site, and I went to see a man about a horse. Well, actually, a woman about a job, but that sounds so ordinary and mundane. And I even started looking into vacation options for me and my youngest child this winter. After all, if we are both lying awake at night contemplating the ways in which I have wronged her, we might as well do it together for a few days at a beach front hotel in Mexico.

This post is number 500 in An Eagle's Tale. My good fortune 500. Things are looking up, and sometimes a closed door is just a closed door. Not a deterrent, not a roadblock. Just something to help keep the skunks at bay.