opposites do attract....

Bern and I have been married for 45 years come September 5th, and we couldn't be more different.

An example, when I do my laundry it may take 3 days. I carry my laundry bag down into the basement and maybe wash a load. Then I put that load into the dryer but it's too late to do the next load so I come down the next morning and take out the dry clothes and put them in the bag and wash the second load--including things that need to be hung on hangers. When they're dry, I hang them up but leave them in the basement. And the next day, I carry everything upstairs and put the clothes away.

When Bern washes, she starts early. Washes everything the same day and puts it all away that day as well.

I find the way she washes 'compulsive' and she finds my washing technique 'hap-hazard'.

And I would wash dishes every night. She has to wait until the dishwasher is crammed full.

I would never move anything, leaving furniture where it was first placed--she rearranges the furniture constantly, thinking I don't even notice, though I do, but I just don't care about the arrangement of things.

We should probably kill each other, we're so different.

Instead, we've lived together for almost 45 years in what could, I believe, be considered 'bliss' by most of the people on the planet..

Who knows how that happens?

murderer

I am a murderer, that's what I am. Unintentionally, but does that matter to the victim?  Does 'murder' without intention make the dead less dead? Something died and I killed it. I am a murderer.

I was on page 332 of The History of Rain. truly one of the most marvelous and engaging novels I've ever read. Top ten material, at least. The author is Niall Williams, an Irishman. He has written other books, but I am almost afraid to go check them out of the Cheshire Library lest they not measure up to The History of Rain, which I don't want to end, not ever. I want to be in the company of Ruth Swain, the narrator for as long as I live. I don't want to loose her to 'the next book'. But I'm almost through and dread the moment of finishing.

Anyway, their seemed to be a period over an 'o' in the word 'going'. I was initially confused but eventually realized it was a tiny, tiny, t-i-n-y insect of some genus and species I knew not. Much smaller than a gnat, which are small enough. So I used the fingernail of the third finger of my right hand to send it along and away and when I flicked, all that was left of the bug was more blood than I could have imagined being inside something so small.

I just wanted it off the page and out to meet it's end however that would have happened. Instead I murdered the poor creature with the flick of a finger.

There is blood over the 'o' of 'going' on page 332 of the Cheshire Public Library's copy of The History of Rain. I wonder if those who read it after I take it back (and I hope many do--it is so, so good) will pause on page 332 and mourn the little creature I murdered today.

I hope they do and I hope they think bad things about me for how senselessly I ended a life today (without intention, surely--but that's no excuse....)

mail

So, I got a recall notice for my Hundai Elantra some days ago.

I make an appointment at Bosco Hundai in Waterbury to have it fixed and then get an email sending me to a Hundai dealer in Watertown. Ok, I can do that.

A young woman looks me up on her computer and discovers I have 4 recalls on my car!

I tell her I had no idea and she says to me, "they only send a letter if it's life threatening."

So, I have my power steering (life threatening) and three other 'recalls' that didn't endanger my life done in an hour and 30 some minutes.

During which time I read History of Rain, which, without reservation I give a 6 star rating on a 5 star system. It is one of the most complicated and beautiful books I've ever read. I have about 30 pages left to read and I'm doing one of those I don't want this to end things, finding any reason to do something besides finish the novel. Read it, especially if you love books. Incredible, truly.

Then I get a letter from the IRS saying they can't find my 2011 1040 and could I send it to them. First of all, where did they lose it. Second of all, why are they worried about 4 year old 1040's and third of all, why does it matter? They processed it and sent me money back. What's the issue.

I am normally a guy who loves 'government'. I'm a tax and spend Democrat, for goodness sake. And I pay almost no taxes because of the special rules for ordained clergy. It's really embarrassing. Since I retired from full time work, we've had more income than ever before (pension, 2 social security checks and my part time job) and we've paid no federal or state income taxes. My advice is to get yourself ordained on-line and realize how you should have done it years ago....

But how in the hell did the IRS loose my 2011 1040 and why were they looking for it?

Mail is often boring, but these two were interesting.

Farro

How did I live so long and not know about farro?

It is this fabulous grain that you cook like rice. I'm not sure what's in it but it may be some form of wheat. I could look it up online, but I really don't care what it is...I just love eating it!

Bern makes a room temperature farro salad of the grain and roasted red onions and roasted grapes and it is to die for.

You may have known about farro for a long time, but I've only discovered it recently. I can't get enough of it.

My life is better to finally have farro in it.

April

I never understood the T.S. Eliot poem before this year. Yesterday, the 24th of April, it was near freezing all day. Today there was sun, but unwarming, distant, cool. So, Eliot was right about April. "April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm, covering

5

Earth in forgetful snow, feeding

A little life with dried tubers.

Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee

With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,

And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,

10

And drank coffee, and talked for an hour."  T.S. Eliot, The Wasteland

reliving good byes

Our next door neighbors have a daughter who is graduating from high school in June and headed to Sacred Heart University in the fall. Naomi, Johanna's mother, told me the other day about how anxious and happy Johanna is to be leaving home.

Plus Mark's mother gave Johanna her car when she bought a new one. Knowing Johanna's grandmother as I do, I'm sure it's pristine.

It reminded me of our 'good byes' with Josh and Mimi.

Josh left first. He was going to UMass in Amherst. He was spending his Freshman year in a high-rise dorm and it was taking forever to get moved in because they were using the elevators to move people in one at a time. So, he told us to go home and we left him sitting on his luggage on a sidewalk. Bern cried half the way home and I shed a tear or two myself.

Bennington College, where we drove Mimi 3 years later handled the transition with much more grace and speed, being much smaller than UMass. All the parents were invited to a patio of one of the schools buildings to hear from the President. She told us to not try to find our children to say good-bye. "Just go home," she told us, "we'll take care of them as if they were ours." And I think they did.

Another good-bye: After graduating from college, we took Josh to some airport where he was flying to England to live and work for a year. He was walking away from us, down a long hall-way, and waved his hand without turning around. Our baby boy was going to another continent, and what we got was a wave with his back turned!

I told Naomi that story. She laughed and said, "I doubt we'll get even that from Johanna!"

Pondering those good-byes was somehow cleansing for me.

I'd suggest you think about the good-byes of your life and ponder how rich saying them was....

Beet pee and Beet poop

So, one of times I peed today, it was pink. I was horrified. I had prostate cancer and surgery and radiation and another treatment. And I have, not for a long time, had blood in my urine and urinary tract infections that required being in a hospital and catheters and all the horror of all that.

But, just as I was nearing panic, I remembered I had eaten two roasted beets last night--and beets will make your pee pink.

So, I was ready when I had a poop a few hours later, for the red and pink that came when I flushed.

Beets do that to you, if they're fresh and roasted.

So, if you eat beets, remember I told you this....