Archives for 2012

The Horror Within

August 17, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

For about 5 minutes this morning, I wasn’t sure what my next blog post would be. Dreaded Writer’s Block…? What if I never had another inspired thought?

Still half asleep, I contemplated this terrible notion while plodding downstairs to let the dogs out. But ideas reveal themselves. There in my kitchen, lit only by the glow of breaking dawn, swarmed my next story. Delivered straight from Mystery Science Theater.

It was too early for a Miller Lite.

While I slept my home had become freakishly overtaken by HUGE flies. Flies the size of bumble bees. They congregated in my kitchen window and crawled underneath the partially lowered window shade, their silhouettes exaggerated like large hairy spiders. It was waaaaaay too early for such a bizarre scene.

I know what you are thinking. And NO, my house is clean. I’m a bit of a clean freak. The opposite of a hoarder. There was nothing immediately obvious to attract these alien flies. No dirty dishes, no smelly trash, no decaying bodies.

Horror is often unexplained.

Big as a penny flies!

I swatted twenty-two flies in the kitchen before downing my first cup of not-strong-enough black coffee. Nine more latched on to the back door glass. What brought this about??

A Dallas City Hall mosquito-spraying experiment gone bad? The beginning of the Rapture? Amityville?

Halloween is a huge deal in Munger Place – the entire neighborhood goes overboard with decorations and parties and candy, setting aside grocery money for the occasion. Had the flies attacked two months from now, I would have embraced these otherworldly and free decorations… But not mid-August.

I eliminated as many as I could and went to yoga class to namaste it away. Just breathe….

Upon my return, the monsters had multiplied like a sick virus, covering every downstairs window. Kitchen, Living Room, Dining Room, Stair Landing. My life had evolved into a 1960’s sci-fi movie, a cross between The Birds and The Fly.

For an hour I swatted the windows, splattering these huge flies, leaving blurry bacteria smears on the glass and dead carcasses on the floor. They were oddly slow moving, I killed two and three at a time. After washing every window with a vinegar cleaner and vacuuming up the casualties, I was panicked to discover the first window I eradicated was completely possessed again.

Meanwhile, this entire horror episode did not set well with sweet, sensitive Annabelle. She was traumatized and trembling, disturbed by the noisy fly swatter and my near hysteria. She went outside and only reluctantly came back. To pack her bag. I think she’s moving.

Dogs are smart.

talya

Musical Pairings:

The Birds – Final Attack Sequence with Full Symphonic Score

There was an old woman who swallowed a fly,

I don’t know why she swallowed a fly,

Perhaps she’ll die.

p.s. I have no solution…. after researching I believe these cluster flies.

Like the First Morning

August 15, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Finally. A soaking rain in Dallas. Complete with an impressive lightning display cracking and splitting the black sky into puzzle pieces, illuminating my late night bedroom. Lucy and Annabelle, having forgotten the sensation, burrowed deeply underneath the bedsheet, touching my toes. Sleeping weather.

This morning, an extra long walk, the temperature unexpectedly pleasant after the rain. Water puddled on the sidewalks and streets. Honest to goodness puddles capable of respectable splashes. Forty years ago I would have sloshed right through each water hole wearing bright yellow rain boots.

The birds appreciated the rare rain. Joyful, chirping and chattering, sounding more like early spring than tired summer. Like the first morning, like the first bird.

The trees, relieved, stood a bit taller. For a brief moment, the entire city was relieved, fresh from the world.

An unseen squirrel scampering on an overhead branch doused us with rainwater from drippy leaves. On purpose I think. Forty years ago I would have shaken the branches myself, running underneath the shower like a backyard sprinkler. In my bright yellow rain boots.

The rain enhanced the morning smells, intensifying the dirt and grass and pollen. Underneath a neighbor’s cedar tree, the aroma was intoxicating, the peppery smell itching my nose, making me sneeze. Lucy and Annabelle rooted around like armadillos.

Nearly back home, I slipped off my tennis shoes and walked barefoot, my feet sinking into the sweetness of the spongy grass. Like the first day.

talya

Musical Pairings:

Morning Has Broken – Cat Stevens

Serenity Now

August 15, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

I turned fifty last July. That’s fifty times around the sun… Let that sink in for a moment.

In one day the average adult heart beats over 120,000 times. In fifty years, it beats ALOT–more math than I care to do. Definitely not something to take for granted…

I feel better at fifty than forty. I attribute this in part to yoga. The gifts of yoga extend well beyond flexibility, toning, balance and strength. Its benefits include enhanced focus and creativity, lowered blood pressure and less anxiety. Yoga enhances heart health.

my mat is often crowded at home…

My favorite pose in yoga class is final shavasana—Corpse Pose. Lying flat, feet relaxed, breath long, posturing the mind and body to imitate a corpse. A non-yogi may be skeptical, but if you practice, you understand.

There was a time not that very long ago, corpse pose was the most difficult for me. I found it unnerving to lie still and let go. I should be doing something. So I took the opportunity during final savasana to mentally review my to-do list—crunch numbers for a loan application, call a customer, run by the grocery store, schedule a hair appointment, blah blah blah… Serenity Now!!!

Within only a few weeks, final savasana became the most beneficial part of my yoga practice. Letting every muscle in the body melt into the floor, freeing the mind to witness thoughts instead of thinking thoughts. Not awake, not asleep. Still and quite for fifteen minutes or so—just being.

With the firmness of the earth beneath me, I feel my body relax and flatten into my mat. A wood flute plays softly in the background. The clock ticks rhythmically. Inside, energy from the class fills the room. Outside, the autumn leaves stir and traffic whirs beyond —busy people, a busy world. For a few moments, I luxuriate within my tiny spot. My mind empties, clearing space to think and create. Serenity now…

Then, back to writing.

namaste,

talya

My favorite yoga studios…

Arkansas Yoga Center

1949 Green Acres
Fayetteville, Arkansas 72703