HOW EASTER BEGAN

Feast in the House of Simon, 1610, El Greco

And he said, "Taffeta is in this season representing the splendid colors of the Spring Solstice.  And there shall be much money spent on clothes and hats and matching shoes. Beauty parlors shall curl and snip and dye and bleach.  Much money.  And there will be ham.  All the children shall find joy in the form of a bountiful basket of Easter Eggs brought by a selfless and benevolent rabbit, the  Easter Bunny.  What better way to commemorate the bestowing of eternal life and exoneration from the sins of mankind!"


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A TALE OF TWO FURNACES

It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.  It was an ergonomic train wreck, a simultaneous convergence of sad circumstances despoiling our home-heating utopia.  It was the face-off between the voracious wood-burning outdoor furnace and the indoor oil glutton.  In the middle stood a man for all seasons, mostly winter, who had hewn and split food for the former and kept on a diet the latter.

The wood furnace who got us through the winter

after eating every stick of wood in Mathews

Last night I returned to bed and heard him rise and proclaim, "You don't even know when the furnace is out."  Indeed I did not, but had I known I would have still gone to bed and accepted his put-down as some distorted form of "goodnight."

Unknown to me, he had disconnected the wood furnace and flipped the switch on the oil burner, who leaped with relish upon his first opportunity to show Husband his resentment by clogging up and sputtering out.  At 8 AM, I hear husband fussing in the kitchen about having to make a trip in the seafood truck, "...and I'm out of wood, and the @#$%*!* oil furnace is broken down, and I don't care!"

"Good Morning and have fun!," I sang out like a canary in a coal mine.  The dismal cloud followed Husband to the car and soon they were out of sight.

Oil Furnace having jealousy issues.

As I had my first cup of decaf, I felt a little like Oil Furnace, amused at the whole matter, and even a little satisfied.  Neither of us was informed by Husband before he installed the "Backyard Bimbo," as Oil Furnace dubbed him.  Neither of us deliberately engaged sabotage, but do see the a little bit of "go around, come around" here.

On the next try, Oil Furnace blasted forth heat and saved the day.  All is forgiven.

ANOTHER DREAM

I am in a hallway with another person, when a tall thin young man with a long pointed knife comes at us to do us harm.  I struggle for the knife and wrestle it away, stabbing him in the back; and he bleeds and dies.  From then on I am regarded an unlikely heroine, saving both the other person and myself from horrible slashing.

I go into action sparing my friend and myself by plunging the knife in.

Immediately I begin crying for the life I ended and must apologize to his neighbors, a group of belligerent low-brows who endlessly laud the dead man's attributes and see me as murderer.

At last they are persuaded by my genuine sorrow over the matter and we part with hugs.

Next moment I am off to the carnival and contest others in a parachute jump, the first person to the bottom being the winner.  I shoot down like a rock stopping in a timely fashion to spare broken legs and I win.

I plummet like a rock to the bottom

However I am disqualified for not registering first.

Damn you, administrative red tape!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Today is Husband's 73rd birthday, commemorating the day his mother gave a mighty heave and brought forth the light of my life; or at least the flashlight, since he is portable in every sense of the word, on the go most of the time.

He was born with a congenital heart defect which required major heart surgery in the 50's, when heart surgery was a rare occasion.  All his life with me he felt lucky to be living and never anticipated to be 73. Happily he is, and will probably outlive me!

Husband around the time of his heart repair

We have endured each other for 50 years of our lives and now help each other up after falls and swear to mutually deny any accusation of senility or incapacity on our respective parts.  God forbid that anyone should discover that we belong in a "home."

It is his day today and we'll be attending a collective birthday party for people in his high school class who are born in January.  There will be soups, salads, and birthday cake.  Yum

Snapshot of last year's party with everyone in aprons

including Husband

Since it is extremely cold here, we will be bundled up tonight like Eskimos and praying we don't slip on the ice and break an elderly bone.  Wherever you are, remember to toast Husband and have a merry time!

Husband and Leo the cat "watching TV." 

BLACK FRIDAY

Husband struck out early to enter the competition for Christmas bargains known as Black Friday.  I wished him well and stayed home since I stopped Christmas shopping a few years ago.  It finally dawned on me that shopping had absolutely nothing to do with Christmas.  Just because three wise men brought three gifts to Baby Jesus does not require the whole world to repeat the process annually.

When he returned he had purchased a saw at a $60.00 saving.  Husband is a compulsive coupon clipper and has a wallet exclusively for his wad of paper treasures.  My task is to keep a hawk eye on the register monitor and catch every "failure to enter" the promoted and displayed sale price.  And I am good.  Needless to say, the checkers remember me, even though none of the errors are their fault.

Below are items Husband got from Harbor Freight Tools at a savings of $18.48, paying only $2.61.  He was so excited he had to show me the receipt.

Behold a Pittsburgh Quickfind Tapemeasure

a plumber's brush

multipurpose scissors

and a 3.5" mini flashlight

He came home the other day with a laser-gun thermometer, which he uses to detect cold air entering the house.  What a guy.

I know you are all out there envying me, dreaming that you had a super shopper/dreamboat like mine.  Hang in there because surely there is one more out there somewhere.  Try Colorado.

  

When we were younger, but nevertheless thrifty

THANKSGIVING

I am thankful for life, love and the pursuit of awesomeness.

For Daughter I and Her Glorious Brood

For Daughter II and Her Atlanta Good Life

And For Daughter III and Her Irrepressible Curiosity

Happy Thanksgiving to All!

HOLD THAT POSE!

I'm sitting on the sofa with my slacks down around my ankles watching "The Enchanted Cottage," while making notes on the back of a receipt from the veterinarian for the purchase of special requirement cat food  How did this come to be?

    1.  I hit my knee on Husband's beloved trailer hitch when removing groceries from the car.

    2.  Since my pants leg would not pull up to reveal the injury, I pulled down my pants and sat on the sofa to examine it.

    3.  The television happened to be playing one of my favorite movies from 1945, "The Enchanted Cottage," starring Robert young and Dorothy McGuire, which instantly involved my thinking.

Dorothy McGuire as the homely heroine

    4.  Before you conclude that I am having an erotic interlude with myself, know that this was simply a convergence of independent events that sound all too incriminating.

    5.  At that moment I began to have a word storm descend upon me in said position.  Hence I am writing with legs crossed, pants down, and attention diverted by the story of love's soft assurance and triumph over the world's most cruel tragedies...homeliness and disfigurement.  This long ago story had a low threshold for measuring misfortune and failed to capture my appreciation of such sad affliction; however the intention of it resonates with me.

Robert Young as the disfigured WWII serviceman

 RKO's "The Enchanted Cottage" is about two physically repulsive people finding euphoric perfection while occupying the magic space of an English cottage.  An introvert's dream scenario of us against the world happens in a cocoon warding off criticism, pity and condescension; oh and perfectly illustrating the transcendent power of love.  See it in a theater near you 68 years ago.

The couple as they saw themselves through the eyes of love