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Orion of Bluster
Mar. 2nd, 2020 09:21 pmThis morning I finally got around to opening a new bank account that's needed so I can move the money I got from my mother around. It took an hour, required filling out forms, and was anxiety provoking because all financial transactions make me anxious, even when there is in fact nothing wrong. But I got it done, so that's good. The sky was blue, though there was a chilly breeze, and I went for a walk. After that, I didn't feel good, but I don't know why. I had elaborate dreams last night, in which my parents AND Shadow the cat were all still alive! My father had been hanging out with some young people I didn't know, who had bought him a complete set of fishing gear. He was all dressed in his new waders, trying out a fishing rod. "Do you really like fishing?" I asked. "Well, that's what we're about to find out," he said, apparently in a jovial mood.
This weekend was a tale of two dinners: a fish fry, and a dinner with the DBs. I have run the gamut of church-themed dinners, one in a church basement, the other featuring vegan and gluten free food, with rose and acai flavored kombucha.
The Sparrowhawk had put together a spreadsheet of local Lenten fish frys, and we decided to go around and try some. On Friday, it was St. Alphonsus, on the west side. When we arrived, the parking lot was jammed and we had to park off on a side street. The walk back was freezing cold. The line inside was extremely long. Overheard in line:
"No, I'm not getting in line. I was getting takeout but I thought I'd come up here and see if there was anyone I knew." Ah! The mark of a true extrovert! The introverts all lurked off into the takeout line and then left with their booty.
". . . . So then they just put it back together and put a couple of screws in it."
"Oh yeah, that's what they did to my mom too."
" . . . and then they sent her back to the nursing home and she started bleeding to death again."
Sigh. Everybody has the same problems. We are not separate.
"So, my dad retired at 65, but he went back to work. At an apple orchard, driving people out to pick apples, helping them out and stuff. Couple days a week."
"Oh yeah, something to do."
"When I was in Viet Nam . . ."
Whoa. There's a sentence fragment I haven't heard in awhile. I really wanted to hear the rest of it, but the line moved on and I did not. I think it was something innocuous about eating fish.
This weekend was a tale of two dinners: a fish fry, and a dinner with the DBs. I have run the gamut of church-themed dinners, one in a church basement, the other featuring vegan and gluten free food, with rose and acai flavored kombucha.
The Sparrowhawk had put together a spreadsheet of local Lenten fish frys, and we decided to go around and try some. On Friday, it was St. Alphonsus, on the west side. When we arrived, the parking lot was jammed and we had to park off on a side street. The walk back was freezing cold. The line inside was extremely long. Overheard in line:
"No, I'm not getting in line. I was getting takeout but I thought I'd come up here and see if there was anyone I knew." Ah! The mark of a true extrovert! The introverts all lurked off into the takeout line and then left with their booty.
". . . . So then they just put it back together and put a couple of screws in it."
"Oh yeah, that's what they did to my mom too."
" . . . and then they sent her back to the nursing home and she started bleeding to death again."
Sigh. Everybody has the same problems. We are not separate.
"So, my dad retired at 65, but he went back to work. At an apple orchard, driving people out to pick apples, helping them out and stuff. Couple days a week."
"Oh yeah, something to do."
"When I was in Viet Nam . . ."
Whoa. There's a sentence fragment I haven't heard in awhile. I really wanted to hear the rest of it, but the line moved on and I did not. I think it was something innocuous about eating fish.
