The Metaphor of the Green Parrot
Ah, the joys of detox. I am determined to wean myself off aspirin, acetaminophen, cold decongestant, and motion sickness pills. I also want to break the chain of my allergies after 50 years and have a summer where I’m not gulping antihistamines every four hours.
Between the back spasms, and muscle cramping in my legs, I have been hopping up and down for several nights. Bed should be peaceful, a respite from care, and it has instead become a pit of torture for me. Having had four hours of sleep two days ago I thought I’d be able to crash last night. Not so. It hurts my neck to sleep in a chair, but I was finally so exhausted, I got a fresh hot water bottle and crashed on TOP of the bed with a light comforter over me, rather than try to endure sheets and heavy comforter under the covers.
It worked, I got somewhere between seven and eight hours of sleep. Not bad, better than three or four, and it was uninterrupted for a change.
Yesterday I started to knit the spouse a winter hat. I’m using up scraps of yarn in 2-row stripes and it looks pretty sharp so far.
FRIDA KAHLO (1907-1954), Still Life with Parrot, 1951.
This is my favourite postcard in this set. Funnily enough National Geographic had a show on parrots last week, documenting the suffering they endure so that we can have a pet and others can make money. People buy them thinking what fun they will be and then discard them because they are too noisy. In a long lifetime of fifty years, the parrot can suffer unbelievably. It reminds me of the life some horses endure, the torture of bad ownership and abuse.
I carefully came downstairs with a plate of fruit, including watermelon, and smiled to see this card.
It’s okay little green fellow, life is going to improve once your owner wakes up to how to take care of you properly.
Happy Metaphor Sunday!