__________________________________
The Ding About the Donkey
By Stephanie Kemp
The Ding About the Donkey
By Stephanie Kemp
From the Dings Diary……..
April 11, 2025
5:24 am
Leaving the mountains.
Want to
Hate to.
Had the best 4 days.
Am totally homesick.
Love being alone.
Again!
Miss everyone.
Always.
My synthetic beanie hair is starting to itch.
“You are so strong!”
I feel so weak.
I am still totally bald.
Unless you touch my head.
“It feels like invisible velvet.”
What color will it be?
Brown? Gray? Both? Neither?
Is the dress black and blue or white and gold?
Eye of the beholder.
(And I am excited to wear any dress, even though this, of course is not true.)
I cleaned and walked and cooked and read and slept and took baths and picked up hundreds of pine cones and thousands of pine needles and collected a winter’s worth of kindling.
Actually not the kindling.
Yet.
This morning.
But it won’t be a winter’s worth.
Does that make me a liar?
A double liar?
I wrote 6 shitty poems.
Does that make me a writer?
A shitty writer?
My brain fog is lifting.
The lid is just high enough for the doubt to creep in.
(This makes me a writer!)
Good thing all of that cleaning and pinecone-ing and needling made my arms strong (so I can lift that fucking lid higher to let more stuff in and/or use it to smash doubt in the face).
Good thing all of that walking made my legs less wobbly so I can walk - or very soon run! - to a new spot.
Although I probably won’t run.
Even if I’m able.
I hate running.
See?
Writing makes me……..
(more)
Honest.
Good luck, everyone.
Including me.
_______________________
Out the Living Room Window:
Moonridge CA, 6:27am
(still April 11, 2025)
We don’t see many squirrels here. This always feels strange because this place should be squirrel heaven on earth:
Massive forest.
(I was going to write more, but that pretty much sums it up, at least if you are a squirrel.)
There are chipmunks and birds and bears and coyotes and burros (I know - burros? but they are making a comeback on the mountain after years of exile and getting hit by cars. “They were ubiquitous up here in the gold mining days,” said the man at DIY while I was getting a key cut and trying to remember what ubiquitous means.)
But this morning (now 6:29 as it took me a minute to get down stairs with my still rebooting legs), there was the most gorgeous, fat, full sized gray squirrel sitting outside the front door on our balcony railing, surveying the land and the start of his day. (I am making the squirrel a he, as I heard a story on NPR the other day that made me feel sad for boys.)
I have never seen a squirrel sit so still for so long, especially on a narrow piece of wood with sun in his eyes. I could have watched him all day, even though I was slightly panicked that I only had on a tank top and my sleeping bonnet (a beanie with no hair attached). All of the curtains were open in our increasingly busy neighborhood and I would be clearly visible to any/all early risers. (The massive forest is only in the back. The front is connected to a ski town that keeps on growing.)
I tell this story not just because I was so excited to see a real squirrel!, but because I was able to - and wanted to (despite being visibly half naked) - stand and watch him for so long. I was so curious about what he was doing (or going to do) out there in the world that I didn’t give a shit if anyone saw me in my current near naked state. (I also had on the extra thick socks that my mother in law gave me in the hospital and wasn’t wearing a bra.). Who cares?! My legs work!! Our bodies are a miracle!
Just as I was thinking about the squirrel’s majestic tail and lamenting that it never gets the credit it deserves as a thing of beauty that could rival that of the (male) peacock’s, the squirrel spun around on his keyster and locked eyes with me, scaring the shit out of the no longer zen and peaceful me. He looked furious and sort of crazy. I was glad there was a sliding glass door between us, even though it looked extra dirty in the morning sun. (I will clean the windows - right after I do the massive kindling collection.)
We stared at each other for what felt like forever. (This while three neighbors and four trucks drove by, plus a gaggle of walking ladies and two big dogs playing off leash with no humans in sight.) Just as the real, less zen me was wondering if the coffee was ready, the squirrel spun a full 360 and started scratching himself like crazy. He stood high on his hind legs and used his tiny front paws to go to town on his face, his tail, his back legs, his butt, any/every part of his body that his little front paws could reach. All while not falling off the railing or breaking eye contact. I felt so sad for him that I almost wanted to scare him off the deck and have him go eat mushrooms in the forest or find some friends to play with in hopes that something might distract him from his current condition.
I wondered what happened that had turned him from such a cool customer into a total wreck in such a short amount of time.
I wondered if squirrels can get fleas.
I wondered if he has rabies.
I wondered if he would feel better if he rolled around in the dirt.
I wondered how a squirrel would get rid of fleas without the help of humans, or chemicals.
I wondered if humans or chemicals are what made him crazy.
I wondered if I’ll ever get to have another cat, even though my husband and one daughter are allergic.
I wondered if my other daughter might want to get a cat one day, if I offer to pay for its food.
I wondered if those walking ladies are still walking or if maybe they stopped for pancakes at the Grizzly Manor.
I wondered who those dogs belonged to.
I wondered if they were nice.
They looked like labs.
One black, one white. I have never seen such a white lab.
I wondered if there is even such a thing as a white lab.
I wondered for the millionth time if I should give dogs another chance.
I wondered if I will go for a walk before I leave the mountain.
I wondered which walk I will take after I realized that of course I will take a walk before I leave the mountain!
I wondered if I will pick up the blueberry donuts my allergic to cats daughter and husband love even though they are both trying to eat more healthily.
I wondered how many more days there are until my other daughter comes home for summer.
I wondered how long I’d been standing there wondering all of these things about all of these things.
Wonder.
I almost forgot about wonder.
I have missed it.
I hope that squirrel is ok.
The coffee is ready but I am still not wearing pants.
I am glad I remembered (in the moment, while waiting for my key) that burro is just another word for donkey.
Here’s to comebacks on the mountain……….or anywhere else.
And I will be getting the donuts but not cleaning the windows, in case you were wondering. (I have yet to decide about the kindling….)
April 11, 2025
5:24 am
Leaving the mountains.
Want to
Hate to.
Had the best 4 days.
Am totally homesick.
Love being alone.
Again!
Miss everyone.
Always.
My synthetic beanie hair is starting to itch.
“You are so strong!”
I feel so weak.
I am still totally bald.
Unless you touch my head.
“It feels like invisible velvet.”
What color will it be?
Brown? Gray? Both? Neither?
Is the dress black and blue or white and gold?
Eye of the beholder.
(And I am excited to wear any dress, even though this, of course is not true.)
I cleaned and walked and cooked and read and slept and took baths and picked up hundreds of pine cones and thousands of pine needles and collected a winter’s worth of kindling.
Actually not the kindling.
Yet.
This morning.
But it won’t be a winter’s worth.
Does that make me a liar?
A double liar?
I wrote 6 shitty poems.
Does that make me a writer?
A shitty writer?
My brain fog is lifting.
The lid is just high enough for the doubt to creep in.
(This makes me a writer!)
Good thing all of that cleaning and pinecone-ing and needling made my arms strong (so I can lift that fucking lid higher to let more stuff in and/or use it to smash doubt in the face).
Good thing all of that walking made my legs less wobbly so I can walk - or very soon run! - to a new spot.
Although I probably won’t run.
Even if I’m able.
I hate running.
See?
Writing makes me……..
(more)
Honest.
Good luck, everyone.
Including me.
_______________________
Out the Living Room Window:
Moonridge CA, 6:27am
(still April 11, 2025)
We don’t see many squirrels here. This always feels strange because this place should be squirrel heaven on earth:
Massive forest.
(I was going to write more, but that pretty much sums it up, at least if you are a squirrel.)
There are chipmunks and birds and bears and coyotes and burros (I know - burros? but they are making a comeback on the mountain after years of exile and getting hit by cars. “They were ubiquitous up here in the gold mining days,” said the man at DIY while I was getting a key cut and trying to remember what ubiquitous means.)
But this morning (now 6:29 as it took me a minute to get down stairs with my still rebooting legs), there was the most gorgeous, fat, full sized gray squirrel sitting outside the front door on our balcony railing, surveying the land and the start of his day. (I am making the squirrel a he, as I heard a story on NPR the other day that made me feel sad for boys.)
I have never seen a squirrel sit so still for so long, especially on a narrow piece of wood with sun in his eyes. I could have watched him all day, even though I was slightly panicked that I only had on a tank top and my sleeping bonnet (a beanie with no hair attached). All of the curtains were open in our increasingly busy neighborhood and I would be clearly visible to any/all early risers. (The massive forest is only in the back. The front is connected to a ski town that keeps on growing.)
I tell this story not just because I was so excited to see a real squirrel!, but because I was able to - and wanted to (despite being visibly half naked) - stand and watch him for so long. I was so curious about what he was doing (or going to do) out there in the world that I didn’t give a shit if anyone saw me in my current near naked state. (I also had on the extra thick socks that my mother in law gave me in the hospital and wasn’t wearing a bra.). Who cares?! My legs work!! Our bodies are a miracle!
Just as I was thinking about the squirrel’s majestic tail and lamenting that it never gets the credit it deserves as a thing of beauty that could rival that of the (male) peacock’s, the squirrel spun around on his keyster and locked eyes with me, scaring the shit out of the no longer zen and peaceful me. He looked furious and sort of crazy. I was glad there was a sliding glass door between us, even though it looked extra dirty in the morning sun. (I will clean the windows - right after I do the massive kindling collection.)
We stared at each other for what felt like forever. (This while three neighbors and four trucks drove by, plus a gaggle of walking ladies and two big dogs playing off leash with no humans in sight.) Just as the real, less zen me was wondering if the coffee was ready, the squirrel spun a full 360 and started scratching himself like crazy. He stood high on his hind legs and used his tiny front paws to go to town on his face, his tail, his back legs, his butt, any/every part of his body that his little front paws could reach. All while not falling off the railing or breaking eye contact. I felt so sad for him that I almost wanted to scare him off the deck and have him go eat mushrooms in the forest or find some friends to play with in hopes that something might distract him from his current condition.
I wondered what happened that had turned him from such a cool customer into a total wreck in such a short amount of time.
I wondered if squirrels can get fleas.
I wondered if he has rabies.
I wondered if he would feel better if he rolled around in the dirt.
I wondered how a squirrel would get rid of fleas without the help of humans, or chemicals.
I wondered if humans or chemicals are what made him crazy.
I wondered if I’ll ever get to have another cat, even though my husband and one daughter are allergic.
I wondered if my other daughter might want to get a cat one day, if I offer to pay for its food.
I wondered if those walking ladies are still walking or if maybe they stopped for pancakes at the Grizzly Manor.
I wondered who those dogs belonged to.
I wondered if they were nice.
They looked like labs.
One black, one white. I have never seen such a white lab.
I wondered if there is even such a thing as a white lab.
I wondered for the millionth time if I should give dogs another chance.
I wondered if I will go for a walk before I leave the mountain.
I wondered which walk I will take after I realized that of course I will take a walk before I leave the mountain!
I wondered if I will pick up the blueberry donuts my allergic to cats daughter and husband love even though they are both trying to eat more healthily.
I wondered how many more days there are until my other daughter comes home for summer.
I wondered how long I’d been standing there wondering all of these things about all of these things.
Wonder.
I almost forgot about wonder.
I have missed it.
I hope that squirrel is ok.
The coffee is ready but I am still not wearing pants.
I am glad I remembered (in the moment, while waiting for my key) that burro is just another word for donkey.
Here’s to comebacks on the mountain……….or anywhere else.
And I will be getting the donuts but not cleaning the windows, in case you were wondering. (I have yet to decide about the kindling….)