I See the Doorways Of A Thousand Churches

Yesterday, we finished reading the Constitution and today I have off from both my jobs. When I used to work in food service, I worked every holiday. Once, I worked a full shift in a nursing home kitchen on Easter Sunday, went home to find my family, such as it was then, gathered around the table, then I washed the dishes. Food service, I found, was not for me, what with the stupid hours, endless personal demands, and the requisite superhuman stamina. I could use a nap, just thinking about it. Instead, I got up this morning with a short list of tasks I wanted to accomplish. This is not what you expected to read, huh?

I have made a career of delivering unexpected speeches.

Tata: Hey! Remember when I essentially ran away from home a year ago?
Mom: Vividly.
Tata: Wanna meet your granddaughter?

And –

Tata: My ex-husband is getting re-married and I’m so happy!
Mathilde: Did you hit your head? Let me take your temperature!
Tata: I’ll be a “first wife”! It’s not every day I get new adjectives!
Mathilde: You’re supposed to be jealous. Why aren’t you jealous?
Tata: Is that really a rule? What if I like them and want them to be happy?

And –

About 30 Different People: Got plans for Thanksgiving?
Tata: Oooh, I do! I’m going to order take-out Chinese duck, lock my door and refuse to answer the phone! I can’t can’t can’t wait!
About 30 Different People: GASP! What happened? Did your family finally hear something you said and throw you out?
Tata: Not at all! Last year, my sister Daria lured me out of my house by giving me a new car. This year, she offered me the spare set of keys. I said thank you and asked her to mail me some mashed potatoes.
About 30 Different People: Are you…are you sure?
Tata: Sure? I’m ecstatic!

After a delightful breakfast that in another life constituted about one-third of a pupu platter and fresh coffee, I did two loads of laundry. This probably sounds like a tremendous April-fresh drag to anyone who does the household washing for a household larger than mine, but it wasn’t. I took down the sheers in my living room and threw them in the washer. I put up my late grandmother’s glamorous drapes. Nobody knows how long ago Edith bought the drapes but a sure sign that they’ve aged well is that the dry cleaner both didn’t want to clean them and was thrilled with his results. Let’s say they’re about forty years old, and a gentle metallic green found exclusively in the living rooms of Italians. The drapes block drafts and light. My living room is now a warm cave. The sheers are hanging in my bedroom. My bedroom floor was vacuumed with extreme prejudice.

I could make a list of things for which I am thankful but if you read PIC on any kind of regular basis you already know or can guess. Let me not detain you. Over the past week, several of my little projects came to fruition and passed into history along with summer, prompting the need for drapes, and making room for new projects and possibly hibernation. A good think on what’s next is required. I am open to ideas. What will you be doing this winter?

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