Sick call

A friend sent me this email this morning:

SUBJECT: Off to see the lizard...

...and have him stick his long tongue somewhere dark and deep. The
drano went fine yesterday - no vomiting or issues. Updates later.

I didn't expect an update this morning, but I'm glad he sent it. He took the day off to have a group of people light up the inside of his bum and videotape it. Fun, fun, as he would say.

And then last night...

The landlady called me (it's the easiest way to reach me when I'm working and plugged into the headphones) and asked if I'd like some polenta and marinara sauce. I said yes. Then she suggested I come down for dinner and I said yes again -- with a big smile on my face. I had been smelling the herbed polenta and marinara for a while and it was making me hungry for more than whole wheat crackers and fresh avocado. So we had dinner together and talked about my friend's pending procedure this morning. She came up with lighting up his a**hole, which I thought was funny, but not for prime time viewing. In some ways it makes me think of methane and lighters and the funny look on someone's face when it singes the hair off their rear exit like some of the boys in high school did to another hairy high school boy just before they were suspended. Horrible thing to have happen to the popular athletic elite. Broke a lot of cheerleading hearts that day who then went to protest in Mr. Huckaba's office. Didn't work. Their hero boyfriends still got two weeks free unpaid and unsung vacation at home.

Back to dinner.

The landlady surprised me with an addition to the sauce -- SHRIMP! Herbed polenta with cheese melted through it and a lovely thick and rich marinara sauce with shrimp. Now that's eating.

After dinner we drifted outside to the deck after Pastor stood still for me to pet and hug him. He's such an attention hog. (I love it) Out on the deck wailing saxes and smoky brass played low and dirty serenaded us. Birds dipped and swirled on rising warm air currents and squirrels played tag and hump in the trees, slender branches dipping and flailing as they leapt from perch to perch. As the music ended we went inside because landlady had something she wanted to show -- and give -- me: art. She dug into the heavy Spanish blanket chest muttering about getting rid of it because it's so heavy (me, me, me!) and pulled out three simly framed drawings of plants: cattails, tulips and some kind of blue daisy. The drawings were done in ink and colored, the heavily accented and shaded lines brightened by primary colors on a yellow-brown sketch pad sheet. She said she has had them for over 40 years. The framer's label is in German and it didn't take me long to figure out buchbinderei is book binder.

So, with a Gladware container of polenta, sauce and shrimp, several packets of flower seeds so I have an excuse to dig in the dirt today and the three prints, I said good night, thanked her for the lovely dinner and the conversation AND the food and prints (she really worries because I have so few things in the apartment or on the walls) and walked upstairs.

Every single day I live here, whether I see the landlady or not, is pure joy. Listening to the music on the deck last night made me feel (and say) it was like living in a movie about simpler times. I'm a character in the universe's movie about simpler times with live music accompaniment. Who says life isn't like that has never spent any time in my neck of the woods. They're missing a lot: generous and friendly landladies, dogs who bask in attention, soft rich earth to plant and weed, music in the air, and friends with weird and wonderful senses of humor about proctological examinations involving metal poles with lights. It doesn't get much better than this.