PossumHaw of Bluster
Feb. 27th, 2025 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI swear to goodness, if this weather doesn't improve, I really am going to go feral. Of course, this is coming from the woman who admitted earlier on this very blog that my idea of a rebellious act these days is refusing to floss my teeth one night. We awoke this morning to a thick fog creeping through the treetops. I'd say our chances of seeing the planetary alignment tomorrow are miniscule. Today I had two windows during which I might have taken a walk, but it was raining both times. Going for a walk is a good way to get my brain out of its rut, but it wasn't an option on this occasion. Everyone knows the weather in Michigan is crap over half the time, so I'll have to think of some other rut disruptor.
Aunt B's obituary is up, and I have sent some flowers to her visitation. Queenie is going to chip in. I was remembering with gratitude how she showed up at my parents' funerals. At my mother's funeral, she was alone, since her husband had followed his older brother, my father, to his rest beneath the prairie grass. I had contacted her before we set out to see if she'd be at church in town, the day before the funeral. I thought we might see her there. The Sparrowhawk and I very wisely arrived a day early. My brother, peace be upon him, said he'd come then too, so we stayed up for awhile in hopes of seeing him. Eventually we gave up and went to bed. The next morning, we knew he had arrived, because we saw his car in the parking lot. The motel breakfast was pretty bad. I went to the car and got some of our own food from the cooler. I hung around waiting for Mr. Science to get up, because he used to be rather strict about what he would eat, and I thought he might welcome one of our sandwiches. He made an appearance quite late in the morning, and boy was he grumpy! Apparently the exigencies of his travel companions had forced him to arrive around 4 am, and he clearly felt that someone should be paying the penalty for this outrage, other than himself. He was giving his celebrated impression of having smoke coming out his ears, and he was in no mood to converse with us nor to eat our food. He had come in search of coffee for Ms. Science, and having found it, he was off. By this time, it was far too late to make it to church on time, so we gave up and moseyed along the river to the Pere Marquette Lodge where we were to meet the rest of the family.
So the next day, when I came to the graveyard, Aunt B was sitting there next to my brother in law, the Fireman, large as life and twice as natural. The Fireman told me later she had greeted him with a steely glare and the question, "Where were you at Mass yesterday?!" She evidently mistook him for the Sparrowhawk and blamed him for my defection. The Fireman, who is a Baptist, let himself off the hook by explaining that his flight had been delayed and he hadn't even been there in the morning. I didn't explain. I let him gallantly take the hit for me, so I didn't get a scolding. Aunt B was one of a kind, and many will miss her, but anyone who is imagining one of those performatively nice Midwesterners so despised by condescending East Coasters would be barking up quite the wrong tree. I imagine her being welcomed into Heaven by a lively party of people she loved and prayed for and scolded in another life. I wish I could go again to that place and honor her passing, but it's just not a good time for us to drive 400 miles on the spur of the moment.
I also ordered some dark chocolate for my friend in Minnesota who is having spinal surgery next Friday. I wish it were tomorrow, because she is in a precarious condition. I hope she'll sit still, read, and eat dark chocolate for the next week. And I made spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner.
Aunt B's obituary is up, and I have sent some flowers to her visitation. Queenie is going to chip in. I was remembering with gratitude how she showed up at my parents' funerals. At my mother's funeral, she was alone, since her husband had followed his older brother, my father, to his rest beneath the prairie grass. I had contacted her before we set out to see if she'd be at church in town, the day before the funeral. I thought we might see her there. The Sparrowhawk and I very wisely arrived a day early. My brother, peace be upon him, said he'd come then too, so we stayed up for awhile in hopes of seeing him. Eventually we gave up and went to bed. The next morning, we knew he had arrived, because we saw his car in the parking lot. The motel breakfast was pretty bad. I went to the car and got some of our own food from the cooler. I hung around waiting for Mr. Science to get up, because he used to be rather strict about what he would eat, and I thought he might welcome one of our sandwiches. He made an appearance quite late in the morning, and boy was he grumpy! Apparently the exigencies of his travel companions had forced him to arrive around 4 am, and he clearly felt that someone should be paying the penalty for this outrage, other than himself. He was giving his celebrated impression of having smoke coming out his ears, and he was in no mood to converse with us nor to eat our food. He had come in search of coffee for Ms. Science, and having found it, he was off. By this time, it was far too late to make it to church on time, so we gave up and moseyed along the river to the Pere Marquette Lodge where we were to meet the rest of the family.
So the next day, when I came to the graveyard, Aunt B was sitting there next to my brother in law, the Fireman, large as life and twice as natural. The Fireman told me later she had greeted him with a steely glare and the question, "Where were you at Mass yesterday?!" She evidently mistook him for the Sparrowhawk and blamed him for my defection. The Fireman, who is a Baptist, let himself off the hook by explaining that his flight had been delayed and he hadn't even been there in the morning. I didn't explain. I let him gallantly take the hit for me, so I didn't get a scolding. Aunt B was one of a kind, and many will miss her, but anyone who is imagining one of those performatively nice Midwesterners so despised by condescending East Coasters would be barking up quite the wrong tree. I imagine her being welcomed into Heaven by a lively party of people she loved and prayed for and scolded in another life. I wish I could go again to that place and honor her passing, but it's just not a good time for us to drive 400 miles on the spur of the moment.
I also ordered some dark chocolate for my friend in Minnesota who is having spinal surgery next Friday. I wish it were tomorrow, because she is in a precarious condition. I hope she'll sit still, read, and eat dark chocolate for the next week. And I made spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner.
no subject
Date: 2025-02-28 07:11 pm (UTC)