Monday adventures

Ed's quotable (and dated) saying for today? 

Gorgeous, there's nothing so bad that you can't run away from it. (It came up as we discussed, still upstairs, under a quilt, the stresses that hit working parents these days.)

Sweet one, I never heard you say it! 

Maybe because you never needed to hear it? (He implies nothing terrible befell me.)

No, maybe it's because I have, all my adult life, had an easy time abandoning bad situations. Or at least perceived by me to be untenable. College majors, countries, parental dysfunction, relationship, homes -- you name it, I've been known to pack up and move away from the epicenters of trouble. But I never considered this to be virtuous. It's more of a self-preservation mechanism that I was born and bread to have firmly in place. Though maybe it is virtuous, because self-preservation, we have learned over time, is virtuous. You put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others. 

 

Ed and I do not have breakfast together. Indeed, after our chat, I go out and feed the animals (what's this -- chickens on the loose, so early? Did we forget to lock them up for the night? Oops! I blame daylight savings time changes!)...

 

 

 

And I go out to meet my good friend who happens to be in town.

And in the few hours we spend together, we have so much subject matter to cover that we never even get to a discussion of the elections. And that's just fine. 

I do have to cut off our morning a bit, because Ed has scheduled a meetup with a guy who is selling his old truck. The guy lives south of here and we are to drive down to the small town of Evansville, where Ed will inspect the newer old pickup. Believe it or not, he's doing it for me. His current truck is about thirty years old and not only is it rustier than any machine out on the roads, it also smells of mice and dead animals. I refuse to ride in it. Ed needs a truck just a handful of times in the year and he cares not at all about any of these things, but recently the need for mechanical updates have steered him to Craigslists and FaceBook Marketplace -- websites where newer old trucks are put up for sale. This particular pickup is twenty years old and it's a beautiful sparkling red color, with only slight rust on the door's edge.

The town of Evansville has a new coffee shop ("Allen Creek"). It's lovely and it has all that I need for a pause: milky coffee, a scone, sunshine. Ed's out inspecting the truck.

Upshot? My own coffee shop pause was delightful but the truck is a no go. Engine makes some noises that made Ed frown. Damn. I loved that color! Shouldn't people pick their vehicles based on appearance? 

 

The kids are home from school today -- a teacher workday perhaps, I cant keep track -- but we stay with the regular schedule. Monday is Snowdrop day and she comes to the farmhouse for the afternoon.

From there -- to ballet, and in the evening hour, as she dances, I meet up with her mom for a catch-up moment. I know we had one yesterday, but we're approaching the days that require a lot of coordination and planning. We coordinate and plan.

Evening quiet. I am still reading analyses and opinion pieces on the election. I notice that many in the mainstream media have shut off the readers comments. Perhaps they are tired of hearing the same disparaging reactions. Perhaps they're simply tired. Ed will still listen to me talk about it all, but just barely. There's too much to worry us if we allow ourselves to worry. Businesses with which he is intimately involved may have to shut down. And that's just the tip of a very big ice berg. Maybe we're in something more akin to an Ice Age? 

He'll say again and again, falling back on cliches that he loves -- you cannot predict the future. No use in trying. Let's just continue. Sort of a "carry on" message. So, we carry on.

with love...