Nothing is more boring than talking about the weather: what it’s going to do, what it might do, what “they” said it was supposed to do and then never did. All of this prattling makes me crazy and doesn’t even count as small talk in my book. That said, The General takes a keen interest in all-things-weather and yet, strangely is rarely satisfied. He is, in fact, A Goldilocks for All Seasons. There are approximately three days during the year when he will admit to the weather being “not too bad” and suitable for whatever it is he needs to do.
I recently pointed out that although he complained hourly last winter about blowing snow, frigid temperatures (or, as the weather-nerds will have it, The Polar Vortex) as soon as the spring sun began to warm the earth and I tried to lure him outside to a sheltered, sunny nook on the deck, he shook his head rapidly, shocked, saying it was far too wet and besides, “they” had said it was going to turn cold again that night. In summer, of course, it’s usually too hot, dangerous even, to be in the garden for too long and where was that sunscreen/hat/protective eye wear anyway etc.
Perhaps like myself you are consumed with dread much of the time these days but just for a moment, let us not think about The Pandemic.
The General and I distracted ourselves over hot cross buns and marmalade the other day by listening to Sir Anthony Hopkins on the radio and he was full of amusing banter and stories from years ago (hanging out with Peter O’Toole and Olivier, that type of thing) but what I really appreciate, always, is when a wise, older person (or anyone, really) makes themselves completely vulnerable and sincerely speaks from the heart. (He notes how easily he cries for example and how “the past is very present” with him these days).
Rather refreshing to hear in a judging, Instagram world.
I remember telling both of my sons that while large breasts were a very nice attribute in a girlfriend, the more pressing question should be, as the relationship began to deepen: “Would this person make you soup when you are sick?”
This is not intended to be yet another gust of Pollyanna-overload – I only seek to catalogue a few of the things that have helped even a little during these endless days of sad news. I think it was Stephen Colbert, (himself one of these helpful things) who commented recently that he was really looking forward to not hearing the words “another grim milestone” every.single.day. I am also acutely aware how lucky we are to be able to plan and discuss coping strategies – because after all, the luxury of time, companionship and good food are all such individual gifts.
And I get that.