stories of my life in Tucson AZ and NYC

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

St. Patrick's Day 2009

Desert wildflower (photo by Rusty Storbeck)
Happy Spring to all


8:17 am
St Patrick’s Day 2009

Maybe I am imagining it but I see the first clump of green leaves out there. It is St Patrick’s Day, which is a day Bill always celebrates. He wears green on it, the day before he chooses green for playing chess on the computer because he says “St Patrick’s Day is tomorrow.” I don’t think he remembered it was St Patrick’s Day today when he forced himself out of bed grumbling, as only he can, to take the truck to the mechanic.

It began last night when I went to bed at a normal reasonable hour, hoping this time I will sleep thru the night and not spend hours of it up in the middle. He said “be sure to get me up at 7 tomorrow so I can take the truck in.”

“Don’t worry, I will” I said.

Which is why I was so surprised when I woke up at 1:30 am to get myself iced water and saw that he was still at the computer playing chess. I didn’t say one word, but he sure did.

“I lost every game! and it was all the truck’s fault! I was so bothered about having to bring it in tomorrow, I couldn’t concentrate right!” He was in a fury.


When 7 am came this morning I overslept, but he was up.

“I’m leaving now” he called to wake me up.

“Wait, I’ll put the carabineer on the door.”

“Don’t take all day about it!” he said. And at the door he had a lot to say about how he didn’t want to be doing this.

“I love you and give my love to Mark” (Mark is the mechanic) were my last words, just to say something to sweeten the atmosphere. But that set him off more, he couldn’t be sarcastic enough in his comeback.


Then I went back to bed and next thing I knew he had returned. He wasn’t cursing anymore, and greeted the dog in a friendly way, he is always nice to the dog. He said “I’m glad I brought it in so early, before the traffic started, because it rode so rough.”

And then he said he’s going back to bed. And I got up and made the coffee and made a hotdog for me to have with my coffee on a roll all nice, and two hotdogs for Beanie, one cut up in little pieces and one a whole hotdog to have in his mouth.


And I had my coffee and hotdog out in yard and woodpecker arrived to peck at the bread I put out yesterday, and Beanie enjoyed both his hotdogs so much. So now both Beanie and I are up on this beautiful morning, with sky so blue and sun so bright, and woodpecker still in my yard with his red head and speckled feathers.

Bill is in bed. And Priscilla (Bill’s cat from outdoors) must be somewhere with her babies. She is no longer around very much, only comes to the house in the evening when Bill is playing chess to hang out with him, and Beanie and I are safely faraway in back room. Where her babies are I do not know. But two mornings ago Bill and I both commented to each other “Priscilla is less fat,” and we both said “she has hardly been around.”


It seems like such a metaphor for my life that somewhere I don’t know where, Priscilla has had her babies. That I am only deducing this because she is no longer spending her whole life on top of my refrigerator, and because the day before yesterday, when Bill was out with Beanie, she came in for such a long drink of water, and because she did seem less fat. (O I see what the woodpecker is pecking on. Last night I threw out the last 3 of the very very stale glazed donuts in the yard, he’s pecking at that.) Why I would feel I have a whole other life going on, when only visible signs are comparable to I do not spend every minute on top of the refrigerator and took long drink of water at water trough two days ago, I do not know. It just seems odd to imagine whole earthshaking life for Priscilla and think “I probably have one too.”

Bill took me swimming at Jerry’s pool yesterday and he took me early, because he promised to go over to Jim’s house after swimming and help him cut down all his weeds. It was nice arriving early instead of late and knowing I could have my whole swim and we each got our own lanes which was huge treat. And water was nice temperature, sky was very blue, sun was very bright, and it was all filled with light. Nice!

Jerry was back. He is not there on the weekends and it was nice to see him presiding on deck as usual, he’s such a little king. When he returns after the weekend there is no awareness that the pool ran just fine for the two days of the weekend with just the girl lifeguards around. When he returns he is such a big-shot, he seems in every way indispensable to everything. But it is still a nice sight to see the king back. This is the only pool with a king, because Jerry is king of all the pools, but this is the pool where he lives, this pool is his castle.


I was swimming for 10 minutes when a man arrived and said “can I share with you?”

“Are you a gentle swimmer or a vigorous one?” I asked, “because if you are very vigorous I will give you the lane and push my husband over and swim with him.”

He said “I am in the middle.”

I said “OK let’s try it.”

He turned out to be a perfect swimming companion, he was way too modest. Because he swam exactly like a fish. You hear that expression “swim like a fish” all the time, and all anyone means when they say it is a person is a good swimmer. But that is not what I mean. It was exactly like swimming next to a big fish. He swam so elegantly and exquisitely, he never broke the water, it really was exactly as if a big fish were sharing my lane, he literally made no waves, just a nice whoosh in the water.

I don’t know how he did it. It was like he was there and invisible at same time. It was like swimming with those exquisite lake fish, a bass. I no longer like to share lanes with those who come for their workouts. They punch the water when they swim, literally, it is some new style, to beat it and punch it with every stroke, and then kick hard and make huge splashes. It was like swimming with a tornado, I just try to be as far away from them as I can. Which is why I offered to give him the whole lane and shove Bill over and share with Bill, when I saw him arriving with all the work-out paddles. But he wasn’t like that at all, it really was an honor to swim in same lane with someone like him, the most exquisite swimmer in the universe.


post script at noon, Bill is now up and in good mood, and telling me about last night's show on Coast to Coast. George had Bob Curran on (from Ireland). Bob Curran knows all about the leprechauns and fairies, and said the leprechauns are not always so nice. Bill said this means they could come up and kick you, or overturn the milk can in the barn, or let all the animals out and the corgis would have to round them up, or upset the dogs.

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