Homecoming

https://dispatchesfromdystopia.com/2020/09/17/homecoming/
— Read on dispatchesfromdystopia.com/2020/09/17/homecoming/

The snow morphed into slush as freezing rain pelted us. There was ice and places like the Y closed.

“Stay Home!” commanded The Universe. And we did. The roads were passable, that is until downed trees blocked them. Staying home was a great idea today.

We stayed home, except to assess road conditions. I used the sojourn for a chance to buy strawberries and a Valentine Card for J.

I went up early, watched a a DVD of I Love Lucy episodes from the autumn of 1952 I watch, actually listen, to Lucy for the score and orchestration of the soundtrack. The music still holds my attention, after a lifetime of watching the show. The stories, even as well-acted as they are, are kind of lame.

There came a point where I awoke and could not fall back asleep. I went downstairs, prayed the Rosary with the webcast from Lourdes. I’ve come to like praying at the grotto, albeit virtually.

J won’t be going to the store until 10:00 AM. Nice. She doesn’t need to find out just how dangerous black ice is.

So that’s about all I have to say. I’m sleepy. Whatever was blocking my sleep has gone.

What better way is there to celebrate a cold, snowy, wintry day than to go for a swim? Indoors, of course.

I cleared the snow off the vehicle, noted that the Circle in my little circle community of townhouses was cleared, and off I drove to my local branch of the Young Men’s Christian Association for some swimming in their indoor pool.

It seems like the “lap” pool is a little warmer than in the past. Whatever the reason I’m not complaining. It has only been fifteen days since I returned to swimming. Day by day, my times are going down. I swam 1650 meters in 44 minutes/46 seconds today, four minutes faster than just a week ago.

In the pool, it’s summer or so it seems. The snowy day and the warm-ish pool is that lovely blend of both worlds. I can think about the warm seasons, even dream a little about doing summer “right”, with strolls along the beach, getting tanned, swimming in the warm surf. The summer of my dreams is like the Christmas of my dreams. We have one of each, Christmas and Summer, all planned out. These dreams are the Impossible Dreams of the Don Quixote we all have living inside of us. These are the paradigms we use to take the shine off the Right Nows spread before us. Learn to to get over your plans. They really don’t matter.

But, when all is said and done, I’m pretty damn grateful for what I do have, slush and all.

It snowed. Visually it’s most beautiful. It’s cold out but not terrible. Sent pictures to a friend, who said it was “greeting card beautiful“. And so it is

COVID-19 closed the Y in Mid-March 2020. That meant I had no access to the pool and hence no swimming. The Y and its pools reopened around July 1, but for various silly reasons, excuses really, I did not start swimming again til January 28, 2021.

Since then I have regained my enthusiasm for swimming and the Y’s cleaning protocols allow me enough time to complete my 1 mile swim. The lifeguards will let you start ahead of the official start time or run a little over. My times for the distance are rapidly approaching the 45 minute allotted time slot.

It’s all good.

The difference to my overall demeanor is incredible, as in a totally positive change in my outlook. I see many familiar faces, and even with mask-wearing and social distancing, we can have downright friendly conversation.

Of course due credit must be given the exercise component, but the intangible of fellowship with both members and staff makes a huge difference.

Anything to take one away from the ongoing political melodrama, or comedy of errors, is a positive thing. Isolation with nothing but the television was a prescription for a mental health breakdown. I’m surprised more people didn’t go crazy.

Adequate and effective self-care is a major component in coping with this madness. We’ve all been beat up by the political discord and prevention protocols we’ve experienced in recent years. Doesn’t matter whose side you were on. You are a casualty.

Get out there and act like a civilized person again. Those are your neighbours after all, not your enemies.

“With malice toward none,with charity to all.”-Abraham Lincoln

I’m thinking about all that stuff that makes life so beautiful, like love, sleeping beside your lover, all kinds of sentimental crap.

Right now, I hear night sounds. I think they’re maybe bugs, and I don’t know if anyone else ever hears them, but when it’s night I hear them. I hear the bugs and the heat pump and occasionally the refrigerator. They are my night friends.

At night, when I was in my twenties, I would make plans with A, whom I would later marry. I don’t know what became of the plans, but our marriage fell apart, we divorced and she ended up dying of cancer.

And now that whole time haunts me.

Plans? What were we thinking? We didn’t know nothin’. But forty-plus years ago, at three o’clock in the morning, at least we weren’t lonely.

I just watched and listened to the finale of Andrea Chenier. I felt emotions rise, was moved nearly to tears, felt the goosebumps on my neck.

Beauty. I needed this.

#2 Son, as is his habit, asked that I give him a wake-up call at Five AM. No problem. I’m a Dad, after all. He has a business trip to Pennsylvania, with his boss and friend Torres, to buy motorcycle parts for resale. J got home early. She is sleeping . I should be doing the same.

For now, while I get free sleepy again, I’m watching The Divine Liturgy from a monastery in Russia. The Liturgy is very reverent with a choir chanting melodically in counterpoint to the chanted reading of The Gospel, I think it’s The Gospel.

“We will comprehend the word serenity and we wil know peace.”

So states one of the Ninth Step Promises of Alcoholics Anonymous. I have this notion of serenity that has me “cool” in the face of stress. While that may be true, serenity in the Presence of Our Lord is another type of serenity. He promised us that He would be present whenever we gather in His Name. I see that today at this monastery, with prayers offered in a language foreign to me.

This is the Russia that endured when Communism faded away. The faith that sustained Russia in the face of Hitler, Stalin and their murderers is expressed by the worshippers gathered here. A nation isn’t just its government. During this turmoil in America, continuing even after change of Presidents, we need to remember this.

Our Lord’s sovereignty prevails over Russia. His sovereignty prevails over America, whether we choose to recognize it or ignore it. And He is the same Lord of all, particularly of all nations, Christian or non-Christian.

I wanted to brag about my return to the pool and swimming at The “Y”. But somehow, right now, it doesn’t seem all that important. I’ll save that for later.

With all due respect to Poor Richard, I live in my own sleep-deprived world. Sometimes things get a little topsey-turvey I had dinner last night at Eleven PM. I was hungry and I had dinner ready. except for the tomatoes and okra I had some red beans and barbecued pork loin, slow cooked for eight hours I had not planned on eating but it was all too yummy to pass up

I got back to swimming last Thursday. That day I swam 1,000 meters. Last night I swam 1500 meters. I felt great swimming The COVID-19 Protocols allow for only a 45 minute session and I swam 43 minutes My goal is to swim a mile in under 45 minutes, then go even lower, meaning faster. It is entirely attainable.

Time to go back to bed .

If I want to play The Oven Repair Game, I better pony up around $100, just to be dealt a hand.

That’s about what it costs for the technician to show up and tell me what’s wrong. It could be something minor, or it could be something major. If it is the time/ temperature module, the cost of that part costs almost as much as a new range.

Think about it. The components of a range are heating elements, sheet metal, and the electronic control module. Guess which part is the most expensive? Yep. What went bad or, best case scenario, what might be going bad.

So I’m not paying for a technician to show up and tell me my range isn’t worth fixing. I can’t blame the repair people. They have a business to run and it costs money to send technicians on a call.

It’s not really a game.Reality, as in what it takes to run a business, sets the terms and conditions.

Nobody says adulting would be easy.