Peace and quiet

 

Sophie at the veterinaray clinic. Note the IV tube.
Ready to come home tomorrow.

I think it was Maya Angelou who said we all need to take an occasional day out. The world, she reminded us, won’t fall apart without you. That’s what I did today—a day out. The Burtons were out all day, celebrating Jordan’s birthday at the Roadhouse, which is supposed to have great burgers. They were up, bright and bushy-tailed early this morning, Jordan is a bright green top with shamrocks dangling from her ears. My bow to St. Patrick tonight is a pale green T-shirt (with a VW bus on the front) and bright green footlets. By rights I should wear orange because my ancestry is Protestant Irish. I’m fairly sure my forebearers, three generations back or more, left Scotland for Northern Ireland. They were Protestant Irish, but I like the myth and legend of the larger Irish culture, the green of St. Patrick if you will. Perhaps W. B. Yeats best summer up Irish culture: Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.

Since I would be cooking only for myself, there’s no Irish menu in the cottage tonight. But tomorrow my family will get corned beef, champ (a mashed potato dish with lots of butter and green onions), and Brussel sprouts. Coming up with a green vegetable that’s Irish and my family will eat is hard because everything is cabbage, and they won’t touch it. When Christian asked why the Irish eat so much cabbage, I suggested it is plentiful, cheap, and nutritious. I refrained from adding something to the effect that you can make some wonderful dishes with it. Colcannon is also out—no cooked spinach. I also didn’t tell him that Brussel sprouts, which he likes, could be considered tiny cabbages. Tonight I have made myself a huge batch of pea salad and will eat with it, I think, the sardines in preserved lemon that I would have served to Jean the other night.

I was sad that my happy hour guests cancelled tonight—particularly sad because friend Jaimie burned her hand badly. But that cancellation added to my day of peace and quiet. I had planned to make a couple of appetizers to entertain Greg and Jaimie, but I’ll save them for a reschedule when Jaimie is in a better place.

So this was my day out: I slept really late, with no Sophie to wake me and demand food. I barely had time to read emails before church, which I attended via Zoom in my pajamas. A bit of cottage cheese for brunch, and I applied myself to the last words of Irene in a Ghost Kitchen. I finished it—at least the first draft—and I breathed a huge sigh. Seems like I’ve been writing this mystery forever. It came out at close to 58K words, so if I can pick up another two thousand on editing, it will be a respectable length for a cozy. Tonight I’ll start some notes for a show about Helen Corbitt that Mary and I are to collaborate on. Mary regularly teaches cooking classes for the Silver Frogs, the senior noncredit program at TCU. So she roped me in to provide commentary and background on Corbitt’s life while she demonstrates the recipes. Should be fun, though I am a bit confused on which one of us will say what. I’m sure it will work out, and it’s one of those things I vow not to overthink. Oh yes, I did have a nap in the late afternoon but only dozed—think I satisfied my need for sleep this morning.

The Sophie report is good again. She’s eating, albeit with appetite-stimulating medicine. Today the clinic will take her off her IVs and see how she does on her own, with the goal of bringing her home tomorrow. I have a list of questions for our vet when we see him.

After a week fraught with tension and worry and distractions, I’ve enjoyed my peace and quiet. Talking with a friend recently, I said one reason I didn’t want to move into a retirement community was that I like my privacy. From friends who live in Trinity Terrace I get the sense that even though you can get privacy in your own apartment, it’s easy to be drawn into the constant round of activities. No such temptation in my cottage, and I was completely happy today. But I wouldn’t want to spend every day this way.

 

Thoughts from a prude

I never thought of myself as a prude. I think my four kids will tell you I was fairly forgiving and understanding when they were teenagers, though I did draw the line at fart jokes and other bathroom humor. But now, frankly, I’m appalled at the tone of our presidential primaries.

Let me hasten to admit that I’m a liberal, and I find the objectionable material on the right. But we have presidential candidates talking about who can pee where, how women can avoid rape (don’t go to parties—yeah, that will fly with the younger crowd), masturbation and small hands, and dildos. These are men who want to run what was once the most powerful country in the world and is closing to regaining that status? Can you imagine FDR, Truman, Eisenhower, even Nixon or JFK bring up such subjects on the campaign trail? Certainly not either of the Bushes (their wives would cream them) or Barack Obama. No, we’ve hit a new low.

I know it’s important to Ted Cruz to improve the morality of America (according to his standards) but, frankly, I find it a deterioration of our standards of common decency. What happens in the bedroom—or shower stall or wherever—is between two people, or maybe one, or maybe three or more. But it’s not the government’s business.

Are there not more significant problems for presidential candidates to consider? Like the ever-exploding Middle East, the climate and weather problems, immigration, social inequity, medical care? Why are we hearing about people’s personal sexual habits, especially from people whose own habits are not above scrutiny if gossip be gospel?

Today I read that Ted Cruz promised to step back the “war on coal” if president. Does he not realize that coal manufacture pollutes the atmosphere almost more than any other industry? Oh, that’s right. He doesn’t believe in climate change, but he does believe selling sex toys is harmful to the morality of Texans—and by extension, most Americans.

Both Hillary and Bernie have addressed the problems of the LGBT community but not in a prurient, judgmental way. Other than that, they have stayed out of the bedroom, and that’s one more reason I’d vote for either of them.

Come on, folks, let’s not lose the standards of decency and reduce our country to this level of baseness. We are better than that.

I cannot help but think of my mother. If she heard this discussion, her chin would go up, her eyes would go out the window, and there would be no such talk. A true lady. We could all learn from her.