FishCrow of Ember

[ismo]

We both did lots of small things today. We were preparing for the arrival of a guest, so there was cleaning, and putting away of laundry, and a last-minute trip to the grocery store. The Sparrowhawk made one of his go-to dinners: steak and home fries with salad, tomatoes and green beans. I made cookies with festive red sugar on top, mostly so I can take some to my mother on Friday, and three loaves of bread. We made a fire in the fireplace. The wood is sadly a bit disappointing compared to last year's but we have a lot of it. It makes the house seem more cozy on another gray day on which just enough snow fell to freeze on the pavement and make things slippery.

Our guest arrived in the late afternoon, seeming somewhat out of breath and flustered. His mini-van started sliding back down the driveway. Our driveway is on a slant, and I've realized in the last couple of years that it is a bit of a deathtrap. Once I wouldn't even have noticed, but now I'm acutely aware of the dangers of falling down. We brought his luggage in for him, because he walks with a cane now and was muttering about how he doesn't want to break his other arm. He already has one arm that is only semi-functional.

We gave him some fresh bread with salami and cheese, and a glass of Kentucky Bourbon Stout to refresh him while the Sparrowhawk cooked, and then had dinner. He and the Sparrowhawk chatted while I tried to do a whirlwind cleanup of most of the dishes. The Sparrowhawk is a great cook and I appreciate everything he does in the kitchen, but I have noticed that, over many years of cooking for large numbers of people, I have learned to clean up as I go, whereas when he cooks, the kitchen still ends up looking as if something exploded in there. Our guest is currently taking a nap, because he has a weird sleep schedule. He'll get up pretty soon and be up till midnight, at which time he'll go to bed, but not fall asleep till four. Or so he says.

It's been weird talking to him. I decided to call him Wol, like the owl in Winnie the Pooh, because his nearly white beard and hair stick out like untidy feathers. He has a lot of little tics and odd head movements, which, coupled with his large startled eyes, make him look a lot like an ancient, irascible bird. Wol is the person on whose account we got thrown out of our little cult, because we refused to shun him. We were close friends for something around ten years, and next door neighbors for part of that. Our kids ran together and were friends. And then we moved away. For many years, we tried to keep up--Christmas cards, trying to set up visits whenever we were in town--and then we just drifted away. It was mostly because Wol didn't or couldn't reciprocate, so we gradually gave up trying to make contact. During that time, he suffered severe depression and various bumps and dings of unkind fate. When we returned to Michigan, we reached out, but he wasn't ready, I guess. Now for some reason he's decided to leave his self-imposed isolation and come see us. It's fine, we chat cordially, but it's not really like rediscovering an old friend. It's more like talking to his ghost.

I tried to talk to my mother, but it's been hopeless lately. She can't hear me at all, and only gets agitated because of the strange things she hears me say. I suspect she's not wearing her hearing aids, but I can't ask her because she can't hear me! We connected for a few minutes when I got her on Facetime, but then that stopped working too. I also sent off a couple of small donations to people who feed and clothe those who need it. I admit I'm feeling very parsimonious lately, because of our budget cuts. I feel as if anything we have left over will probably be needed by one or other of the kids. But the fact is that we're still in pretty good shape compared to some, and I felt that it would be a pity not to give anything at all.

Comments

[oracne]

Here's hoping the visit goes well. What are you reading, currently?

[ismo]

Heh . . . well, your kind question drew my attention to the fact that I haven't been reading much of anything. I kind of fell off that horse. So I started reading "The Will to Battle," which I had on hand for quite awhile. But, like its predecessors, it caught my attention at first and then became gradually more and more depressing. I remembered that I still hate almost all the characters now, and those I don't hate are non-entities. The only one I'm still interested in is J.E.D.D. Mason, but he's a god, or an alien, or a robot, or something, so not exactly a character. I gave up and started reading "Fifty Shades of Grey," which I've also had on hand ever since I found it for a dollar in a used book store. It's much more engaging, although the writing is pretty much terrible and I'd like to give Anastasia a smacking myself, though not for erotic purposes. She is so annoying . . . But at least she's not one of history's greatest monsters.

[clevermanka]

it's not really like rediscovering an old friend. It's more like talking to his ghost.
Between that and the troubles talking with your mom, that's a lot of communication pressure. Sucks that you're dealing with a double-whammy of it right now.

[ismo]

Ha! It's good that I have the Sparrowhawk around to reassure me that I am actually speaking English of a brand that a sane person would be able to understand. At Deb's house, the Prussian replied calmly, "You're right" to some comment of mine, and I was all like "THANK YOU!" I don't hear that nearly often enough! Anyway, thank you also for noticing. It does indeed suck.

[clevermanka]

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