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The snow whispers on the trees out the window and rests lightly on the needle tips there. Out the window forever everything seems out the window and I have a little time here. I have a little time here and here again. The one is time squeezed in between two forevers and as such seems to be cancelled out. Why I might ask. Why bother with the living when the dying is so long and so certain. I have told myself in the past that it is a defiant shout into the darkness. Sometimes though I donít feel so defiant.
I made spaghetti for dinner. Although you made a salad for us, you seemed happy with the idea of my cooking for a change. You do the lion's share of the cooking around here. I am mostly content to feel guilty about that. There are obvious reasons for my feeling guilty about the cooking arrangement. It is just not quite fair. I fixed breakfast this morning too. Why do I mention that? Is it in self-defense? I have recently noticed myself buying things to fix meals with when we go to the grocery. I suppose that is a good start.
It's snowing again. There is a good six to eight inches stacked up on the deck railing out there. It is twilight, late evening and the sun has gone down. The neighborhood is covered with a dense blanket of dim light. Even the wind has stopped for a while. You have been feeding the birds again. You seem to take a more active interest in feeding them when there is snow on the ground. When there is no snow you are happy to let me feed the birds. It is not something I would bother to do on my own.
You are starting to wake up now. I can see you stirring. You sat down to listen to a recorded book and quickly went to sleep. That was nearly an hour ago. I have been sitting here typing typing typing. I repeated a word. That will invoke the spell checker. Now I ask you, did I repeat the word three times or twice? I think I repeated the word twice, although I typed it three times. Only two times was it a repetition. You look up and wave at me. You will be getting up soon. The day will resume.
Snow is on the ground, but the sun is shining. The apologist says that every morning God tells the sun, "Do it again." Of course we have learned from an early age that the world is round and it spins. The sun does not go around the earth. But then, we have also learned that the sun is also in movement. The galaxy is also in movement and all things no doubt circle something else. Perhaps God merely tells the earth to spin again. This is a little translation my brain learned to do long ago and now it repeats.
Snow is on the ground, but the sun is shining. There is a sick squirrel out on the deck feeding at the bird feeder. Maybe it is not sick, but it has a band of missing fur around its middle and part of the exposed skin is raw. Maybe it is not something that humans can catch. You ask what can we do. I don't answer that we can catch the squirrel and take it to the vet. I suggest that we stop feeding them. It is a bad suggestion. You get a lot of joy from feeding the critters.
Snow is on the ground, but the sun is shining. The temperature is hanging around thirty degrees. You seem to feel it is cold. That is what you say. That is not my impression, but I do not object to your observation. I make oatmeal and call my mother. That is because it is Saturday and those are things I do every Saturday. Today you have cooked up some apples to go into the oatmeal. The apples were getting old and were not being eaten and you did not want them to go to waste. So we cooked oatmeal together.
Snow is on the ground, but the sun is shining. The temperature is hanging around thirty degrees. You seem to feel it is cold. That is what you say. That is not my impression, but I do not object to your observation. I make oatmeal and call my mother. That is because it is Saturday and those are things I do every Saturday. My father answers when I call my mother. He says she is not feeling well. I worry about my mother. She is ninety years old now. I am afraid of losing her. I know it is inevitable.
Today I will very likely crawl up under the bathroom sink to attempt a repair of the faucet there. This is a job I have been avoiding. My brain comes up with all sorts of potential complications that I could encounter. I have already gotten the shut-off valves unfrozen. The next problem is loosening the nuts that hold the fixture on. They are badly rusted and in a very difficult place to reach. I don't want to spend two hours on my back up in the vanity with rust falling on my face. I really don't have any option though.
One of the finger lakes has been mysteriously drained, county officials report. Officers called to the scene Sunday morning reported that Lake Mystic, one of the more popular local tourist destinations was discovered to have been drained. Officers were responding to complaints from local residents. "We have no idea what happened here," said Sheriff Cybil Walters. "The water is just gone. All that is left is mud and dead fish." Local DNR officials said there was no evidence of the lake draining elsewhere and that they were puzzled as to what happened to the lake over the long holiday weekend.
It can happen now. It cannot happen now. What is it? It is the thing which both can and cannot happen now. It is the thing which is impossible and is also inevitable. It is the unattainable thing we have been waiting for. It is the thing we know nothing about; the thing we could never have imagined and now it is never happening. It is the God item. A Federal Express package sent by God. Why would God bother with Federal Express when he could just make the thing happen anywhere he wished? Because he is inscrutable. That's why.
The duck is standing out in the snow. It looks sad. Why the duck looks sad I cannot say. It is a white duck. It may even be an ideal duck. The duck from which all other ducks are made. But ducks were originally made from birds. It may be more accurate to say that they evolved along the duck evolutionary branch from other birds to the point where they became ducks. Another nearby branch gave us geese and still another yielded swans. The bird branch, perhaps more of a limb at this point came from reptiles itself I believe.
There are small spots of snow in the decorative shrubbery outside. Spots of sew in the snubbery. Swats of snow in the rubbery out the window. I can see all this from where I sit. I can see the spots of white against the dense green. It is a Christmas tree green. There is a reason for this. The rubbery is evergreen stock of some kind. It has been badly trimmed and I have no idea what kind of stock it is. It is rubbery of some sort. This is all I know. That will have to be good enough.
It is getting dark outside. Soon I will have to turn a light on in here. This time of day in the winter brings to mind hunting with my father. He must have kept me out late. These are not particularly happy memories for me. I was often cold and not wanting to hurt the animals. It is odd how many things bring that to mind to me. My father no longer hunts. He is 92 and there are many things he doesn't do. There are enough of these to make me have second thoughts about lasting that long myself.
You are cooking again. You do most of the cooking. I might as well say you do all the cooking. It is easy for me to let you because you say you enjoy the cooking. I do not enjoy the cooking so much even though I find that doing things, almost anything makes me happier than not doing things. Things such as cooking. You pull something out of the oven and tell me that we can eat in a few minutes. You are waiting for some au gratin potatoes. You explain that these have a different powder than scalloped potatoes.
We took a trip to Home Depot to get a sump pump alarm. There is so much orange in that store. I realize it is intentional but it gets overwhelming. They had water alarms but you wanted a sump pump alarm and it turns out there is a difference, largely in the way they are mounted. . They did not have the alarm we went to get. Turns out we need to order the item off the internet and have it delivered to the store. That will be what we will do. Then we will have a small installation project.
There are two pair of reading glasses neatly folded and arranged on the desktop. You have many pair of reading glasses and this is a thing I understand because I have things that I buy extras of since I have anxiety about being without them. Ink pens might be one such item, but I also buy toiletries before I run out and stockpile them. In the basement we have large packages of paper towels and toilet paper. In my office on a shelf are extra bottles of shampoo, body wash and even sugarless mints. I haven't started stockpiling food yet.
It was chrome all over in several different shades. There was white chrome of course, and gold chrome. But there was also pink chrome and purple chrome. Are pink and purple chrome actually called chrome or is there another name for them? It is so difficult to keep up with modern trends when you get old, and I have gotten old. I got old when I was not paying attention. I think that is what happens to many people. Some would say that at 66 I am not really old, that sixty is the new fifty or something like that.
Sometimes I start with a random sentence and make an entry of that. I think that is where I may be headed this afternoon. Is it afternoon or is it evening? It is nearly 4:00. I think that makes it afternoon. You have been cooking a roast most of the day but the roast is still tough. You stuck a fork in and pronounced it not finished. You said the potatoes would be soup by the time the roast was done. Soupy potatoes is just fine with me. I won't complain a bit. What do I have to complain about?
The Dyson arrived today. The UPS man brought it. You worked for hours to get it at auction and spent a hundred forty dollars on it. You wanted me to be impressed and happy with it. I was not sufficiently impressed. It was after all a vacuum cleaner. My expectations had been set too high. I mean it was a Dyson. It was supposed to have magical properties, but I found the vacuuming to be much the same chore it had been before with me weaving around the furniture in a small space with a cord that was too short.
The clock chimes eleven. I can see my fingers resting on the keyboard. It is late. Time to go to bed. You told me to go to bed without you. This is not something I am good at doing. You are up working late and may be at it for a while. I don't want to disturb you. You may find this inconvenient, I don't really know. I don't have enough knowledge. But then knowledge doesn't always give you power. I should reach out to my friends more often. I think I know why I do not. Knowledge without power.
The clock chimes eleven. The pendulum slowly swings back and forth. I can see my fingers resting on the keyboard. It is late for me. I will go to bed when this CD finishes. It is Miles Davis. Kind of Blue. I have been wanting to listen to it for several days now, the phrases going through my mind. It did not disappoint. It is heart breaking good, maybe the best album I have. I would have to do some comparison to make sure and this would be fine work indeed. A couple evenings spent listening to my favorite recordings.
There is a new light layer of snow on the ground. I am reminded as I look out that I had intended to feed the birds this morning. I didn't do it. My brain malfunctioned. Or perhaps it misfunctioned since there was no harm intended. Brains will do that. Earlier I was upstairs and realized I had forgotten what I had gone up there for. One thing led to another and I wound up deleting spam email with my original mission slipping my mind. It is a wonder that we function as well as we do given our mental equipment.
Cracks are appearing in the joints between the ceiling and walls. Such things scare me. I am left with visions of the house falling apart around me. To be sure nothing lasts forever, not you, not I, and certainly not this condominium. It would be nice however if it lasted as long as we will last without major structural problems. I am going to assume for now that the cracks are a natural and normal thing and are not harbingers of terrible things to come. I will let myself off the worry hood for this now. It is only sensible.
Little wisps of snow are falling through the air outside. As I look higher in the sky I can see it is busier with the falling flakes. The news report has come onto the radio interrupting the music. I seem to prefer the music to the news. The DOW has climbed sixty points. I have observed that it falls more quickly than it climbs. Of course I could be wrong about that. My toes are tangled inside my socks. I spread them to free them up. It does not work so very well. I think the socks are too small.
I am standing inside the music store waiting for my piano lesson to begin. It is winter and I am wearing my coat. I have had this coat for many years. I am carrying my piano lesson book and am pacing inside the store in big clockwise circles, passing the register on the right and the guitars on the left. Then I go around the music books and file cabinets filled with lesson books and sheet music. This is the end of the store that breaks off into the lesson rooms. Next I pass the drums and finally the pianos.
There have been a lot of movies advertised with boats in heavy seas lately. It makes me not want to go sailing. I have only been on a boat in a storm one time but it was enough to make me never want to do that again. There was water in my face, water in my mouth, water up my nose, water everywhere. I couldn't hear myself scream. I couldn't breathe. It was worse than bad. And it was my Flying Scott on a tiny lake in Michigan. It wasn't even a real storm on a real body of water.
My ears are all ringy tonight. They have lately been advertising some OTC med on TV that is supposed to be effective in treating ringing ears. I shove up my shirt sleeves. It feels warm inside this carbon-based unit. I can see upstairs to the open door where you are tonight. I cannot really see the open door. I can see its reflection in the windows across the room. It's as good as. Perhaps if I focused I could make you out in the tub from here, but I think not. I think the bath vanity is blocking my view.
The sun is shining. I so often start with a weather report. I account that a good thing. It means I can see outside from where I am writing. Or perhaps it means I write from a place that I can see outside. In any case the sun is shining brightly even though the temperature is well below freezing. Even so it has been a warm winter. Global warming is apparently doing its thing. I am constantly surprised that I still often encounter people who do not believe that Global warming is real. I suppose everyone must have his opinion.
We went to see The Revenant last night. I had a pass for a free ticket. Now there is a dreary weather report of a movie. The film was two and a half hours of Leo crawling around in the woods and moaning. I don't see Oscar in all that even though there is much talk about it. It was a depiction of man up against nature all raw boned and on the edge of death. Over the edge of death. I didn't have a good time and this is from someone who didn't expect to have a good time.
Now I am hanging onto Skype in case my son calls back. He lives in the UK so it is Skype we use to talk with one another. I wonder when it became the UK and stopped being Great Britain or just England. Probably this happened a long time ago and happens to be one of those things that occur after you have lived for nearly seven decades. I would write more about life long ago if I could remember it or if it seemed more remarkable. It doesn't seem so though. It is all nicked porcelain and burning tires.
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