Sunday, January 5, 2014

MUCH OBLIGED, I'M SURE

Here's the soundtrack for this post.


"I used to think," Natalie said, "when I was a child, that I only had a limited stock of 'yeses' and 'nos,' and that when they were used up I couldn't get any more and then I wouldn't be able to answer most of the questions silly people asked me."

"Like, 'What did you learn in school today?' and 'Tell the nice lady your name'?" Tony wanted to know.

"I comforted myself by remembering that I could eke out my stock by things like, 'I don't think so,' and 'Well, perhaps.'"

"And, 'If you don't mind,' and, 'Much obliged, I'm sure,' and, 'You better be careful what you say or I'll call a cop."

— Shirley Jackson, Hangsaman

Settling in, in a small way.

One of the first things I noticed when I saw my mom after two years was the way she almost always answers a question with another question. And that when you ask her directions while driving, she gives option after option. I was reminded, too, of a moment when my old pal CXC (not Connie or Christine) asked me if I had been to a certain restaurant. As I paused, opening my mouth to answer, he hurriedly (and charmingly sardonically) said "'Yes' or 'no' are still options."

I do know I can make people crazy answering questions with questions, giving lots of options, and spending a lot of time telling you how to make a watch when you only wanted the time. I see now where I learned that one.

Cooder has finally fallen into her morning Greenies coma. She lost weight at the cat jail so I am humoring her with extra Greenies as it is not good for elderly cats to lose weight. Unlike elderly humans, which reminds me I must get back on my regime. Figuring out how to exercise is going to be a challenge out here with the snow a foot deep.

JV and I watched the new movie Lone Survivor (JV got a dvd from the Visual Effects Society) last night which was surprisingly good, although I am quite tired of Peter Berg's taste in composers. It sounded like too many episodes of Friday Night Lights. Peter Berg writes a damn tight screenplay. Utterly failed the Bechdel test, though.

Morning light on the door.
(Speaking of Alison Bechdel, her graphic novel, Fun Home, was one of the best books I read last year, in case you are interested.) 

JV and I watched on my old desktop where I sit writing now. He complimented me on making this space feel very cozy. (I do cozy well.)  But as he is very protective of this house, I was well-pleased. I wish I could find a studio apartment in Brooklyn about this size with a real bathtub bathroom and a decent kitchen … and a reasonable price tag in a good neighborhood. Dream on, sistah.

The snow was bright yesterday in the sun. Today we are in for grey and freezing rain. I do love the way snow muffles everything. Just the shush of car wheels through the muck. I drove yesterday and it was a little scary for me. Note to self: next car, if there is a next car, needs to be four-wheel drive. 

Okay, off to the day.



The view from the bed.




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