Cooking after Midnight, and Other Things.
Just before last weekend my dad's mother passed away. It was rather unexpected; we all thought she was going to outlive my grandfather, who devoted much of his own time and health to her care. She suffered from MS since before I was born, and had many health complications, though she had no accute problem at the time of her passing. She's the first of my grandparents to pass away, and I know how lucky I have been. Aaron's only two years older than me, and he has one grandparent left -- Grandma Mabel, who celebrated her 90th birthday this month.
Since I'm still a 'new' employee, there was no way I could get time off to go to the funeral, which was this past Monday, but I probably couldn't have afforded a last minute flight anyway. I wanted to go; I felt I sort of owed it to my grandfather -- we've never been very close with my dad's parents, and I do feel guilty about that sometimes. My parents did take some time off and drive down there, and my mom said that dad and Grandpoppy "got along as well as they ever did, which was not at all." We're actually much closer with my dad's oldest brother and his family, though we don't see them very often either. Dad gets together with his two brothers at least once a year, ever since his twin sister died, but a big family reunion is very rare. My dad didn't expect me to go to the funeral at all, and he's even said he's doing okay with her death, just "feeling old."
I'm not even all that sad, which I feel odd about. I keep hearing about other people in my life who have had people die, and I feel more sympathy for them than I do for myself. I feel the most sympathy for my great-aunt Louise, Grandmommy's sister. She and Uncle Joe were more like my grandparents as I grew up; we saw them at every holiday, and were included with their children and grandchildren. She made my dad a quilt in honor of Grandmommy. Mom says it's quite beautiful, and that I should write her more often. Louise only has one surviving sister now.
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I drove the Broadway route two or possibly three times this week, including Thursday, when we got twelve inches of snow. The only complication was that I had to keep knocking ice build-up off the windshield wipers, but then, I had to do something with all that time on my hands. I kept running a little ahead of schedule because no one was out trying to catch the bus in that weather. Buses are easy to drive in the snow: they're heavy in the right places, so all you have to remember to do is brake early. And watch for cross traffic that can't stop for red lights. I had more problems on Friday night, due to it being Spring Break and all. More drunk people and cops than St. Patrick's day and Mardi Gras combined, times ten. Over all, it was a good week -- I only worked 37 hours, but got paid for 40.
I rediscovered my poor, neglected houseplants this week, which is a sign that my brain is compressing and compartmentalizing my job, leaving me more time and energy for other things, which may explain the following:
I got home ahead of Aaron at some point this week, and started randomly cooking steak and chicken at around 1am. It's just something I do (thought it's usually baking, not broiling), and, perhaps surprisingly, it makes me feel connected to my dear
K, H and L, and my cousins W, B and R, who also cook/bake after midnight. We cousins think it might be a genetic condition. As for my friends, I can only say that great minds think alike. Either that, or late-night kitchen adventures have unknown therapeutic effects.
Also, I've come up with a few ideas for some short stories in the horror genre, which is something I've never tried before. Aaron said that a few days of overtime might pay for a cheapo laptop -- all I really need is for it to have a word processor. And maybe wireless internet, if I'm really lucky.
Lastly, I got to hang out with K this week, which I've been planning to do for at least a month now, and it was good, though cut a bit short by Aaron, who wanted me to himself for awhile. K graciously conceded, and Aaron ended up feeling a little guilty about it. I plan to try and make it up to my friend by coming up with new and interesting projects to keep her entertained through August while she's indisposed. I'm thinking of lots of creative projects, in a variety of mediums. I could teach her knitting, but just one epic knitting project could get old pretty quickly. That, and if I keep changing the project, I'm hoping it will fire up my brain to actually complete one of the half-finished masterpieces I have lying around the house.
Since I'm still a 'new' employee, there was no way I could get time off to go to the funeral, which was this past Monday, but I probably couldn't have afforded a last minute flight anyway. I wanted to go; I felt I sort of owed it to my grandfather -- we've never been very close with my dad's parents, and I do feel guilty about that sometimes. My parents did take some time off and drive down there, and my mom said that dad and Grandpoppy "got along as well as they ever did, which was not at all." We're actually much closer with my dad's oldest brother and his family, though we don't see them very often either. Dad gets together with his two brothers at least once a year, ever since his twin sister died, but a big family reunion is very rare. My dad didn't expect me to go to the funeral at all, and he's even said he's doing okay with her death, just "feeling old."
I'm not even all that sad, which I feel odd about. I keep hearing about other people in my life who have had people die, and I feel more sympathy for them than I do for myself. I feel the most sympathy for my great-aunt Louise, Grandmommy's sister. She and Uncle Joe were more like my grandparents as I grew up; we saw them at every holiday, and were included with their children and grandchildren. She made my dad a quilt in honor of Grandmommy. Mom says it's quite beautiful, and that I should write her more often. Louise only has one surviving sister now.
---
I drove the Broadway route two or possibly three times this week, including Thursday, when we got twelve inches of snow. The only complication was that I had to keep knocking ice build-up off the windshield wipers, but then, I had to do something with all that time on my hands. I kept running a little ahead of schedule because no one was out trying to catch the bus in that weather. Buses are easy to drive in the snow: they're heavy in the right places, so all you have to remember to do is brake early. And watch for cross traffic that can't stop for red lights. I had more problems on Friday night, due to it being Spring Break and all. More drunk people and cops than St. Patrick's day and Mardi Gras combined, times ten. Over all, it was a good week -- I only worked 37 hours, but got paid for 40.
I rediscovered my poor, neglected houseplants this week, which is a sign that my brain is compressing and compartmentalizing my job, leaving me more time and energy for other things, which may explain the following:
I got home ahead of Aaron at some point this week, and started randomly cooking steak and chicken at around 1am. It's just something I do (thought it's usually baking, not broiling), and, perhaps surprisingly, it makes me feel connected to my dear
K, H and L, and my cousins W, B and R, who also cook/bake after midnight. We cousins think it might be a genetic condition. As for my friends, I can only say that great minds think alike. Either that, or late-night kitchen adventures have unknown therapeutic effects.
Also, I've come up with a few ideas for some short stories in the horror genre, which is something I've never tried before. Aaron said that a few days of overtime might pay for a cheapo laptop -- all I really need is for it to have a word processor. And maybe wireless internet, if I'm really lucky.
Lastly, I got to hang out with K this week, which I've been planning to do for at least a month now, and it was good, though cut a bit short by Aaron, who wanted me to himself for awhile. K graciously conceded, and Aaron ended up feeling a little guilty about it. I plan to try and make it up to my friend by coming up with new and interesting projects to keep her entertained through August while she's indisposed. I'm thinking of lots of creative projects, in a variety of mediums. I could teach her knitting, but just one epic knitting project could get old pretty quickly. That, and if I keep changing the project, I'm hoping it will fire up my brain to actually complete one of the half-finished masterpieces I have lying around the house.