Nothing ever changes for the better
- Walter Mattau, Grumpier Old Men
Which includes, the seasons sometimes. The current season, Summer… it’s starting to wilt pretty badly.
The end is nigh. I can see it coming. Like a train in tunnel.
I’m in the last two days of my two week vacation. Two weeks of bachelor living while the family has been working in Hawaii. True, I’ve been working at my usual vocation, but they’ve been working on interpersonal relationships, and “close” living. I’ll take the office over that any day, especially given that I’ve come home every night to a quiet empty house. Fact is I only left the house twice to run errands for Mrs S.
I think I’d be perfectly happy observing the world from behind my windows. Too bad I consume so much shit and have such exquisite taste in cameras and computer equipment. But even there Amazon.com. Try to keep to a box a week.
I haven’t been as good a bachelor this time around as I have been in previous years. For most of the last two weeks my dinners have alternated between a bagel and peanut butter, a bagel and cream cheese, a bagel and Laughing Cow Cheese and then a bowl of Malt-O-Meal Faux Cheerio’s. I ran out of bagels.
I had a house guest one night, the brother of the bride for this weekends affair. I picked him up at the airport and he stayed at my place, given the hour that he arrived (1:00am) and the time we wanted leave (8:00am) didn’t make sense to take him home.
I made coffee in the morning and as he reached for the milk in the fridge.. the two fingers of milk left at the bottom of a gallon jug. The same jug that Mrs S and the little S’s used for their cereal right before they got in the car about a fortnight ago to go to the airport, I had to suggest to the lad, much like Walter Mattau would, “you might want to smell that…”. Been in there a while.
I’m kinda outta of uh.. well I’m out of food. Kind of general statement, but pretty accurate. Unless you want tomato paste or canned olives, your outta luck around here.
BTW, the only thing in the fridge; said milk, 8 bottles of coconut life water (love that stuff), a quivering mass of red liquid that used to be a tomato at one time, the remnants of it’s skin the only clue to it’s former life, a bowl with saran wrap covering something brown and green that I think is last weekend guac that no one ate, I’ll be depositing the entire bowl and contents into the trash soon, a pile of Greek yogurt, and about 6 packs of shredded mexican cheese, all of them open and all of them missing several handfuls of content. Seems I open one before I look for another. I make quesadillas sort of alot. Tortilla, handful of cheese, and hot cast iron. Haven’t had one in while though, ran out of tortillas about a week ago.
Other than that, not much else consumable around here. Even the butter was gone thanks to the dog swallowing a stick when it fell out of the holder last week. I didn’t notice until it was too late, about 11 nanoseconds is too late in that situation. He moves pretty darned fast when motivated by dairy products.
Piles of Stuff
One nice thing about living alone, stuff remains exactly where you put it. This is great when it comes to keys and wallets and leatherman tools. This is especially great when the place you leave it is the kitchen table. Nice to be surrounded by familiar things when you’re eating breakfast. Like the last 10 days of the newspaper. Mostly still in the original plastic bag. This is not so great when it comes to stuff like laundry. There’s no one here to pick up the clothes, wash them, and put them back in my drawers. I’ll have to ask Mrs S how that happens when she gets back. Yeah, this blissful carefree lifestyle is fast coming to an end. Gang gets back Tuesday, but only for a while.
Come on baby drive South, with the one you love.
Windows open on the rest of the of the world, all the way to Dixieland
- John Hiatt
Thursday Team Sank-a-Ray pile in the car and following the lead of America’s least appreciated, and probably worst paid, great songwriter, John Hiatt we’re heading south.
Two days of driving to get us to the Great State of Alabama- my middle kid’s new home away from home. No fucking Kentucky weak ass transitional southern experience for him, no Texas like western south either, nope. M’boy is going deep into the heart of Dixie. Alabama boys. Auburn University here he comes. Lest you forget where we are, Auburn’s old union was a Confederate hospital back in the day.
And there he’ll stay, in the hands of the fine folks at Auburn University. Whirlwind trip for us, 36 hour driving for 36 hours on the ground.
Since I haven’t taken a vacation this summer I was thinking we were going to be there a week or so, maybe go to the Gulf. Well no luck. This summer at the office is the summer of no vacation, I can’t figure out how to get away more than a few days here and there and the gang coming back from Hawaii’s beaches don’t want to go to Alabama’s beaches for some reason.
And finally, the real issue… Auburn sent us a very nice invitation to a breakfast for the entire family on Sunday morning. A Good BYE and we mean it breakfast. I counted three places in 6 lines of verbiage where they essentially say, but in a nice way, GET LOST. Since it is Alabama I’m pretty sure they can shoot parents for less than helicoptering so.. we’re gone.
Oh, every year hath it’s winter
And every year hath it’s rain
But the day is always coming
When the birds go north again
- Ella Higginson
And before you know it, the oldest bird heads north, really far north. He’ll be spending the next 4 months way up in the northern environs of British Columbia where he’ll be part of a team of Canadian and British researchers evaluating ground water and it’s impact on salmon populations. Now, the Horsefly River doesn’t sound like a place I want to go, but looking at the pictures online of some of the fish the folks at the lodges up there are catching I’m inclined to be impressed. Nice to see him doing something he loves. Not as nice to know he wants to leave 3 weeks early. I’ve heard he wants to go back to Houghton when he gets home from taking his Brother to Auburn. He really wants to see Auburn. He also wants to go home, which isn’t where home once was for him.
“why?” I asked my wife, “would he want to go back up there.. he’s always complaining that it’s kind of slow.” She responded “Used to be slow, I think it’s not as slow now, he’s got someone to do things with these days and he, might be a she.”
Minor tectonic adjustment needed in my world.
*sigh*. “But I’ve seen him for three days summer” I started to complain, and I caught myself. Screw it, I don’t want to be the buzzkill on this deal. One going North, one going South and one still to young to decide. Summer 12 moves to Autumn and change is afoot.
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
- David Bowie