Housework

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I went back to sleep for a couple of hours, awoke again around Nine, turned on The Ashes, fixed a pot of coffee, reheated my leftover steel-cut oatmeal from yesterday (not bad). Just sitting, I decided to get busy doing housework. It was housework by increments. Mission creep took over and within an hour, I was fully engaged. I did the kitchen counters, then the floor, the stove top. I noticed the kitchen floor had been neglected so I did a hands-and-knees, nylon sponge scrubbing on the spots like stuck tape, and those pesky, stuck on the surface “PLU” (Produce Look Up) code stickers, you find on nearly every pear, apple, orange, and avocado you buy.

Moving on to the downstairs bath, I found it fairly easy going. An easy clean up.

The upstairs bathroom was another story. The washer and dryer are in this bathroom, so it is a giant lint trap. I did lots of scrubbing, sweeping, and crevice work with a toothbrush. No more gross strings of dust and lint. For the tub, I used the Mr Clean© Magic Eraser to get the soap scum off the tub surfaces. Those suckers really work! I like them,

Mopping the floor, cleaning the toilet, and the sink, shining the chrome bright work, and I was done.

Now the truth be told, doing this after my spinal fusion is a bitcb physically but still as emotionally satisfying a when I did cleaning when I was healthy.

J came home to a clean house. I feel in charge when I get the house work done.

Blessing Of The Waters. Honey Fast

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We in the Latin Christian Tradition are unaware of the lesser fasts (Lents) observed by our brothers and sisters in the Eastern Orthodox traditions.

This morning , when I awoke way too early, I turned on YouTube and found the channel Svyatogorsk Lavra, operated by a Ukrainian Orthodox Monastery under the Patriarchate of Moscow. The monks, priests and bishops were holding a religious procession marking the end of this Lesser Fast, commemorating the Dormition of The Virgin. This corresponds to The Solemnity of The Assumption of The Blessed Virgin Mary in the Latin Church (August 15). The Assumption is the Feast where we remember Mary’s Assumption, both body and soul, into Heaven,

The liturgical vestments were in Violet, the penitential color. The procession at the monastery ended with the blessing of water and new honey, hence the name Honey Fast. The znamenny chant by the monks continued nonstop during this hour+ long rite. Nearly all the women covered their heads with lace mantillas, just as women did in the pre-Vatican II Roman Church. It is a lovely custom.

This monastery has been around since 1526, nearly five hundred years. As context, Luher posted his 95 Theses only nine years earlier, in 1517. The new St Peter’s Basilica in The Vatican was still under construction. This monastery is in Eastern Ukraine in the Donets basin. The area is contested berween Russia and Ukraine, with many ethnic Russians living in this area.

The point of this ramble and rant is about how little we know about Russia, Ukraine, and the rest of the old Soviet Union. The Russians and Ukrainians I observe on YT,, don’t look particularly interested in going to war. With anybody.

Watching this ancient rite from an area still shrouded in mystery for many of us, puts many of our issues within a global and temporal perspective. The faithful will endure, despite corruption, despite tyranny. Aspiring to Heaven carries its own graces.

Another Trip

J has two jobs, one principal part-time job, about 32 hrs a week, and a secondary job, average about two hours per week. She did a call on the second job in Williamsburg and I went with her.

Because of my newly found understanding of her nature, I decided I would dress in “adult” clothes, not the usual jeans, tee shirt and work shirt,with. Crocs© rubber shoes on my feet. So I chose a short sleeve Madras plaid shirt with red and yellow tones, grey cargo trousers that were ironed with an actual crease, and black lace-up canvas boots, the Palladium French paratrooper boots.

My objective was to not look like an over-age college boy or a tourist, since we were going to Williansbutg, a college town and major tourist destination. My objective was to be noticed by her, that I did something different for her.

I think this is all going to come together. Creating a space where she is safe and treasured is my goal.

First Night: Nude Insomnia

After dinner I went to the Y to swim. Swimming felt good. The water was a nice cool temperature for lap swimming. I was slower yesterday, with theology on my mind. Little questions like Why the Incarnation, Why The Crucifixion, Why the Fatima Apparitions? ( I believe them to be true) I got to 1650 meters when a thunderstorm closed the pool.

When I got home around 9:45 PM,I fixed J some new chicken salad, (all white meat chicken, and diced red delicious apple with raisins, almonds, and celery. I then sliced her strawberries. I sat down with some brewed decaf to watch …something, anything on YouTube. Around 11:45 I said to myself, “Better get to bed.” This would be my first night back to sleeping nude. Only I didn’t sleep. My pinched nerve arm was bothering me. So I got up, got dressed and here I am two and a half hours later, thinking, “Maybe now I can sleep

Daddy/little girl

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I mentioned in a comment that I had a light bulb moment around J. It’s taken some thinking and dot connecting, but I believe she is a “little”. She likes me to take care of her. At one point, she had a stuffed lamb and a stuffed bunny, plus some Beanie Babies© and the Taco Bell© Chihuahua. (¡Yo quiero Taco Bell!) When she was a little girl she had two Chihuahuas, Spot and Chico. I gave her some refrigerator magnets with a Fun With Dick And Jane theme that she loved. Her favorite television shows are nostalgic, sweet, and sentimental, Andy Griffith, The Waltons, Little House. Green Acres, I Love Lucy. The appeal of The Bachelor is its naïve theme of falling in love, kind of the way a thirteen or fourteen year old girl would imagine it to be. She likes her cookies at night.

Doing the income-earning thing is not her cup of tea. She comes home exhausted not merely from the physical demands, but by all the requisite “adulting” that comes with the job, I suspect. She likes Sudoku puzzles. I’m wondering if she would like to color. I think she is probably 12-13 in her little persona.

I realize this is probably an amateurish and incomplete assessment. But I notice I feel like her “Daddy” a lot. Her own father was a good and decent man, a soldier, very much of a modern day knight. She would never, ever, have “sexualized” him, but I don’t think she gets she has this hidden, inner need that is not a true Daddy-daughter relationship, but a working framework whereby love is expressed.

She put her stuffies away, off the bed. Since I make the bed most mornings, I wonder what would happen if they found their way back?

I don’t think I would have reached this conclusion without the help of Jadescastle at The Chrysantthemum and The Sword and Mrs McDaddy at The Succulent Savage. Thanks.

Nude Sleeping. Clothed Cooking

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After getting J’s lunch together, I was feeling sleepy and went back to bed. But I did something different. I took everything off, my clothes, boxer shorts, tee shirt, even my brown scapular. And it felt totally different from sleeping in pyjamas. It felt more comfortable, more sensual, more satisfying in a tactile sense. Big change is coming. I used to sleep nude all the time. I guess I stopped when the boys were little. Time to go back. J will notice. Let’s see what ensues.

I woke up after a two hour nap. I prepared our lunch/dinner J should be home soon. She has a medical coding continuing education class tonight from Five to Eight PM.

The other day, we bought some of those tiny potatoes, a little bigger than marbles at a local farm stand. I needed to use them. I decided to fix Mom’s Potato Salad.

I washed and cut the little potatoes in half, leaving the peel on. I cooked them for about 10 minutes til they were soft, but not mushy. I have Mother’s old recipe in my head, not written down. She used mayonnaise, “wet” yellow mustard (French’s), dry mustard (Colman’s), dill seed, celery seed, and chopped celery, adding them to the boiled potatoes. I “guesstimated” the measurements. I added some fresh dill weed that I needed to use in something.

I coated two chicken breasts with herb-infused olive oil and roasted them at 375°F (191°C). Let them cook for 45 minutes. Dinner is ready. No wife is home. No word from her. 3:40 PM she is headed home.

Time for some trainspotting and a cup of coffee. Swimming later.

Details at a later post. More satisfying activity..

Dreams

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I went to bed at Midnight. I had nearly six hours sleep, which is extraordinary for me. I remembered three of my dreams.

  1. I dreamt I found a box of paper ephemera and photographs from English people who lived in India during the Raj. The papers consisted of symphony programs, bulletins, various items. They were all autographed by the attendees, now long dead. Obscure members of The Royal Family were remembered in photographs.
  2. I dreamt that a woman I had a major crush on when I was in my thirties came back to Richmond to visit. At that time, I was married to wife #2. We made love one night. It was sweet. And it was the only time we ever had an opportunity to get together. In the dream, we were making plans to reunite when I woke up. My issue in the dream as I awakened was to how to let her know of my location so we could meet up.
  3. The third dream was about fixing up a house I lived in from 1962 to 1974. We were going fix it up to sell. It was smallish so entertaining would be a challenge. We could probably only accomodate the President and First Lady and none of the cabinet should they come by. I specifically thought of President Trump and Melania. My wife was none too happy about The Donald dropping by.

So there. I woke up, fixed J’s lunch, wrote this post and finished just as train #174 pulled into Ashland on the way to Washington and New York.

Yesterday, at dinner, I told J I was thinking about going back to work, so she could retire or maybe work less. Most of the piles of crap in the house are hers. They include old client files from when J had an accounting practice. This is important because the house is a hoarder’s paradise. We want to organize and remodel the house to make it livable and welcoming, maybe not to Donald and Melania though.

It’s going to be a beautiful day.

Last night I went swimming, did OK, swam a little over a mile. I came home fixed a pot of decaf and did a load of laundry. J told me how touched she was that I would consider going back to work. We’ll see how this develops.

Not Easily Forgotten

I have come to the conclusion that my first wife never really loved me. I suspect that she lacked the capacity to love a man completely. That her concept of love lacks any sense of permanence, except for the Love she feels for her children.

All of those memories of first love stay with me. But now comes the suspicion that that was all felt by me alone. That there never was an “us”. We somehow believe the stories we tell ourselves about the world and love and how it’s all supposed to work out. We buy the stuff to outfit our lives: cars, clothes, food, houses. But none of this can fill or satisfy this fundamental emptiness. Those of use who are really lost try to fill the emptiness with alcohol or drugs, gambling. promiscuous sex. Those don’t work either.

I had been going through life thinking I somehow was responsible for the failure of my first marriage. Now I am not so sure. That leads me to my second marriage and its failure, and my current and final (hopefully) marriage. J and I, despite our frustrations and shortcomings, really love each other.

Another 4:00 AM Start

J had work starting at 4:30 AM. She wakes up. I wake up. I got to bed before 11:00 last night. Still four hours sleep isn’t enough.

Right now I would like to go back to sleep, but I am also stimulated by all that is happening in my world Right now Train #86 is stopping in Ashland on Virtual Railfan LLC. I’ve read blog posts from my blogosphere buddies. I wouldn’t mind having a cup of coffee. I miss my wife.

I sit here. I’m thinking about sleeping again. I brushed my teeth, took my medicines and vitamins. I ate some food. I can barely stay awake. I think of couples in love with each other and have sex.

Metropolis-Fritz Lang

I have decided to watch Fritz Lang’s silent classic Metropolis. I have the 2008 restored version. It seems more timely than ever, an early dystopian classic. The themes are humans dehumanized and brutalized by technology, and a vicious system of class stratification and oppression.

This predates the work of Huxley and Orwell. It is a stunning declaration for human freedom and dignity. Its challenges to the merits of science and technology remain to this day.