I barely remember the morning. Let me trace my way back.
It’s dark now, the end of the day. Tonight the flickering, changing colored light on the roof of the building across from me is blue, with some pink flashes. Red lights have been retired. Zing is asleep on the purple chair and I am in Clark’s big leather chair. I seem to sit here mostly. It is 9 p.m. (midnight to some of you!) I had a late dinner of roasted sweet potatoes. The dishwasher is making quiet splashes.
I have just turned off the TV because I don’t know how to work it. I watch it for a moment and then the screen goes blank. Steph showed me some steps this afternoon, but I need another lesson! It’s probably just as well — I would have watched the news.
Now I’m remembering — today was a quiet kind of morning. All I did was re-trace household steps that are becoming familiar to me:
1. Check bank accounts in Tallahassee and California. (I am monitoring pensions and automatic bill-pays to see when they are all transferred to Wells Fargo. Then I can close the Tallahassee account.)
2. Mail things.
3. Fill the tub with water because water will be turned off (building repairs) for a few hours midday.
Tedious stuff.
4. Sort electrical wires that Clark collected.
5. Stop myself from throwing them all away without thought.
6. Clean the little scraps off the studio floor.
7. Get a haircut —
-- followed by a generous visit from Patrick and Steph, who are in town for just a day. They brought Chicago Fire pizza. Chicago does pizza right! We talked and relaxed, with the windows open to the balcony and street sounds wafting up.
Oh, I almost forgot — when they left I:
8. went to a meeting of the HOA (homeowners) in the library on the ground floor of the condo. This is the kind of thing Clark would have done with relish; I think someone should know what’s going on, and I planned to let him do it. Since he’s not here I went. I got there when the meeting was well underway, and, wouldn’t you know, the only seat left was front and center? But my long-ago reporter skills kicked in. I just sat down and started scribbling in a little notebook. No one needed to know I was drawing the faces of the people (all men) on the board. Don’t worry — I do NOT plan to be the woman to crash their monopoly! Meetings give me a rash. I am glad I went, though, because I want to know how things work and who makes the decisions where I live. So now I can tell you about the many layers of cement in the upper level of our parking lot; that some people (maybe most) hate Comcast service and resent paying for it; that we’re hiring a guard and a towing service for the two days Paul McCartney will be appearing at the new arena which is just two blocks from the condo. It’s very likely that interlopers will try to use our parking lot, so tonight the board arranged to have their cars towed away while they’re enjoying the Beatle in song.
Now I hear splashing sounds under the sink and I see the bucket I have placed there is a quarter full. Things are coming together, but my new home — and new dishwasher -- still need attention that I am poorly prepared to offer. For tonight, though, the bucket is good enough.
Love,
k
 |
| Last week the art light was red You can see the edge of my balcony, lower right |
2 comments:
I can just see you and Zing there.......all cozy and comfy in your chairs (!)....high above the clouds.......I think it would be a very comforting feeling to see the life all around you, and you two all safe and sound inside. The dishwasher and HMO meeting aside......sounds like a lovely evening.
Mona
Yes, Mona! At first Zing didn't want to venture onto the balcony, but now he loves it. There's a subtle wire netting thing between the railings so he can't squeeze through and take a dive. Still, I don't let him out there alone. I'm a little nervous, although he's a digger, not a jumper.
Post a Comment