TheCapeBlog

I did the transfer station run with Peter, had a fun excursion with the Kids to Yarmouth for Dairy Queen and a new Italian food shop, purchased a couple of special online Bay Area offers, changed out the filter in the water pitcher, got a hair cut, picked up refill meds at Stop & Shop and got a pedi.

I’d planned some of this for tomorrow, so it felt really great to get some tasks done today.

Fluffles is all set, I picked up his food last night, and Candy was nice enough to come over this morning so we could touch base.

That leaves tomorrow for laundry, litterbox, changing sheets and packing. Shouldn’t be too bad.

Right now, though, I feel so confused: here and there at the same time. 1969 and 2011 at the same time, Berkeley and Mashpee at the same time, single and married at the same time.

I’m beginning to understand why the relationship between husband and wife is pretty much off limits to everyone else.

The fact is, it’s a contract and probably the most restrictive and complicated I for one have ever been party to.

It’s pretty specific: we have a responsibility to stick with each other, regardless of circumstances: sickness, poverty, and the general category of “the worse.”

There’s no bailout provision, no golden parachute, no time-limited NDA, no agreement to terminate for non-performance.

We could ruin each other, financially and emotionally, and the only thing keeping us from doing that really are the bonds of affection and conscience.

Peter is the only one whose input I’ve actively solicited because he’s the only other person besides Ron and me with skin in the game.

For everyone else, it’s a “mind your own business.”

I believe Ron had to draw a line in the sand this week with one of his closest friends.

At least, I hope he did and that the friend doesn’t try to scuttle us.

Fast, cheap, good: saute tofu, stir fry vegetables and if you have it, chard, in soy sauce, mirin and sesame oil. Made it last night because I was too fried to do much of anything else.

Had to be replaced at 11 Edgewater. Peter phoned around 5:30 am, called Spencer Hallet. They were out before 7. Amazing service.

A few days ago, had a yen for hash so fixed some ground turkey, onions, carrots, green beans and poultry seasoning. Had some of it for breakfast, baked the rest as a cottage pie with crust on the bottom and mashed potato on top for lunch. Brought some to Peter, who declared it “tasty”, and scarfed down the rest for supper.

We had a couple of days of melt, and late yesterday afternoon, it got cold again.

During the melt, I was able to clear a path from the street to the back stairs.

That was a priority because I’ve fallen twice in the last week and a half. Miraculously and so far, I’ve not broken anything.

I left one of my canes in a Chatham shop a couple of days ago and retrieved it yesterday.

It was a two-hour round trip, but worth it. I was so happy to have the cane back.

It bothers me to lose things, and not retrieving an item that has given me good service is unthinkable, even with the expense and inconvenience.

When I was very young, I lost a tiny purse in a cab in New York City. I still remember crying my eyes out, which must have driven my family bonkers.

It has to do with being lost myself, I think.

My husband Ron is bright and good-natured, a combination hard to find.

He can also be self-absorbed, easily frustrated and an inveterate procrastinator.

I am very hard-working, considerate most of the time to friends and family, reasonably well-informed, and a decent cook.

I am also impatient, distrustful, frequently late, and have a vicious temper when provoked. I am poor at foreign languages, physically unattractive and have no sense of style.

We all make compromises.

Ron’s preference is for small, dark women. His “all the girls I wish I’d loved before” include Maria Muldaur and Annette Funicello. Instead, he’s married to me, dear fellow. By taking that step, he’s made a huge sacrifice for our family’s benefit. Put into that perspective, I can easily live with his faults. Then again, considering that Maria now weighs about 300 pounds and poor Annette has MS, maybe he’s not that bad off after all.

‎”People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad.” ~Marcel Proust

They are right, January is the coldest month. The Herald warns this morning of wind chills as low as 16 below tonight and tomorrow morning in Boston.

We are getting later sunsets, though; it’s still light around 4:30 in the afternoon.

James and Shane slept over last night, but we didn’t do anything outdoors yesterday. I worked almost the entire day on web stuff.