the day after the day after

I'm beginning to think that my processing speed has slowed down. Remember my posts when I traveled to Poland? When my mother died in September? It took me a while to get a grasp on how these events, journeys really, affected me. Clarity of vision is a youthful thing. You see things and you immediately compartmentalize the data into your ready-for-it brain. You spit out a position. You hang onto it.

With age, you ask yourself questions. You recall other stored information. You hesitate. [The conventional wisdom is that older people are set in their ways. Don't believe the conventional wisdom. I think young people are set in their ways. Although I may change my mind about that. Give me a few days...]

Yesterday, I read a lot about the election. By the time I saw the kids in the afternoon, I was ready to offer a general explanation of why the Democratic Party lost its appeal to so many of the people in this presidential race (or, looking on the flip side, why the Republican candidate appealed to a voting majority). Luckily, they will probably not remember much of what I said because by today, as I read more, and think more, and talk to Ed more (who is in manufacturing and knows a hell of a lot more about outsourcing and lowering prices of goods so that Americans can order even more stuff from Amazon cheaply -- even though he does not sell anything on Amazon -- than most pundits who are sounding off on the subject), I begin to wonder -- what if the loud discussion of why one party lost and the other won is... well, mostly off the mark?

Ed loves to throw out little sayings at me that date back to an era where people went around quoting movie bits. His offering today is from the Marx Brothers and Duck Soup -- who are you going to believe me or your own eyes? I stay with that for a while. This genetic trait we appear to have -- to band together around a series of questionable and irrational beliefs. I may play around with it on the drive home from school today. (The grandkids engage in more serious discussions with me almost exclusively during the 20 minute car ride home.)

Elections are on Snowdrop's mind for sure, because today she had round two of classroom elections. (She had round one last month: she ran, she did not win then.) She had prepared a new speech. Today, her classmates found it convincing. It spoke to them. She got to be a classroom rep (for the month). She was ecstatic. I asked with a grin if gender was at all at play in school elections. Gaga, in the fourth grade, more girls than boys tend to win.

It's sunny outside. This is important. The world looks gloriously brilliant out here, on farmette lands.

The crab tree is ruby red, against a backdrop of glittery golden leaves. It's so pretty, and yet I feel my camera completely misses the mark. You have to see it to believe it. Or, maybe even in seeing the reality of that stunning tree you'll miss the mark? Perhaps preoccupied with other thoughts, perhaps feeling moody and despondent... Cant be bothered with the truth of that tree... Hmmm....

Ed sleeps in and so breakfast is annoyingly late. I finally shout up to him that I do not regard a first cup of coffee past 10:30 to be an acceptable start to the day. He lumbers down. We eat, we talk about the election. And the Marx Brothers.

The kids are usually more tired on Thursdays than on the other days. Both have late evening activities on Wednesday, and, too, it's nearing the end of the week without actually being the welcome end to the week. So we take it easy. Play time, food time, reading time. In that order.

I drive them to the meet up point. I return home. And my thoughts go back to a time I was a student in Chicago. We partied in those days. Not crazy dancing parties, but eating and drinking parties. I remember one such gathering that was actually around my birthday. I was then in graduate school, so maybe 22 years old? Everyone was having a great time and I thought to myself -- wow, I have never in my life felt so alone. It took me a long time to understand that I prefer solitude and very small groups to big gatherings and large congregations, even if they're of like-minded people. Ed and I are the same in that way. Here we are then, liking the intimate quiet of an evening at home. Bliss....

with love...