I know that all this scenery and nostalgia has been wearing a bit thin for some of you. Today, I am going to offer a few little vignettes from the home front.
These may resonate for those of you who know my family.
Those who do not, pray wait until tomorrow for our return to the usual programming.
Dad and the Sock
We went out to dinner at Christine's. She has fabulous taste and the energy to realize it as an interior design wonderland. Her lovely home is full of beautiful ornaments and contrasts in texture: crystal decanter's near pillows covered in dyed feathers, silver and soft wood, a bell-jar of bleached seashells and a peculiar cat with no ears.
Christine set a lovely table and made vegetarian lasagne served with fresh salad and a pinotage. We were all enjoying our meal when Dad pulled a sports sock out of his pocket and blew his nose into it. He returned the sock to his pocket.
I recognized this sock as one that Ms A. had worn to gym that afternoon and discarded on the bathroom floor.
When offered fresh tissues by Christine (the bathroom was mere feet away) he declined, saying "I don't see what is wrong using the sock, its going into the laundry anyway."
I tried to point out that his behavior was 'eccentric' at best. How would it look if Christine pulled out Ingrids used gym sock and blew her nose on it and kept it for later?
Dad did not concede.
The worst of it was that when I came down to the kitchen at 4.45am to take David to the airport (he returned to CT this morning) THE SNORTED IN SOCK WAS ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER WHERE WE EAT BREAKFAST!
Ingrid and the Ginger
Dad was brought up by Christian Scientists and his state of health is notoriously hard to pin down. When he last visited us in Seattle he had a raging fever and cough but kept saying he was just tired.
Well, ever since we arrived Ingrid has been "coming down with something" or has known that "Dad is coming down with something" or reminding me that Ms A has "had a persistant something - and I asked her to tell the Doctor she was exposed to TB."
Dad has said he is just fine but has had some long naps and finally said he is getting over [not being sick, really.]
It is enough to make me neurotic.
I think it is because of the peril of disease that Ingrid drinks ginger tea in copious amounts. Every time I come into the kitchen I find flasks or teabags of ginger tea. Sometimes the sink has chunks of boiled ginger sitting in it. When I was feeling a bit weary one day and thought I might be coming down with The Something, I drank ginger tea and felt better. Last night, Frost had a sore stomach and Ingrid gave him one of her TWO CUPS OF GINGER TEA sitting by her bed.
Frost found it too spicy.
Either Ingrid is very predisposed to respond to ginger tea, ginger tea is a wonderdrug or she just really likes ginger tea.
As it happens Ingrid is definitely a bit under the weather with something - I think she has caught Dad's cold - but oddly since she is obviously sneezing she says she is not really ill!
Dad is no longer feeling ill but Ingrid says he is chesty. He is lying in bed with his eyes closed saying he is not sleeping but "thinking of his speech" for a book launch.
Curiouser and curiouser. Makes me want some ginger tea.