You Married A Music

Pete’s ranting and Sweetpea’s bathing her right shoulder. Pete’s brother’s gone – as they say – round the twist, leading to a blizzard of phone calls and dumb assertions. So long as all parties are at least 300 miles from one another, bruised feelings are the worst of it. They get off easy. Three of my sisters, my aunt, mother and I live within 20 miles of one another. Every week no one throws a phone through a picture window is a victory.

On Friday, I bought a case of blueberries and over the weekend jarred blueberry pie filling. Since I had jars, pots, sugar, spices and lemon juice, it was breathtakingly easy to clean and simmer blueberries, heat the jars, fill them and process. The hardest job was cleaning up blue drippings and splatters everywhere. Next thing I knew, seven quart jars lined up on my bamboo cutting board and I stared at them, asking, “What the hell just happened?” I am aware that none of this flushness with successosity will matter in the least if the lids pop off and the blueberries turn a furry boys-bathroom-blue. That could happen, probably right about the time I decide I know what I’m doing, with predictably disastrous results. Won’t that be fun?

This morning, flood waters are rising in Minot, North Dakota, where Miss Sasha’s husband Mr. Sasha is stationed. Emotions are running high. On Facebook, Miss Sasha reported, “Our newscasters are crying.” Pictures are both grim and perplexing. See?

Thousands flee flood in Minot, N.D.

Hoo boy. Or look here. There’s a picture for you. Miss Sasha, whose been preparing food for the people filling sand bags, recommends donations to the Mid-Dakota Chapter of the American Red Cross. You can contact them here. It’s very difficult to be helpful at a distance. If you’re of a mind to help critters, here’s the animal shelter.

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