Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frog, Redux . . .

What a wonderful day.

Grace and Isaac dropped Mackenzie at 7:30. Instead of returning to Janice's to dress, Grace came here on her way to school. She is driving Janice's van. I do not know if she is waiting to see the outcome of my having confiscated the Toyota. I don't see a reason to care.

I fed the critter for fifteen minutes or so. She nodded off, and I put her on the day bed. I ate the potatoes, bacon, fresh pineapple and grapes, and cran-grape juice that I had made for Gracious.

As Mackenzie slept, I did paperwork, read the paper and an essay about Catcher in the Rye, and checked MLS listings on the website. Then I bathed. I had a wonderful fantasy as I soaked.

After my bath, I prepared for Mackenzie's awakening by getting things ready for our goings-about. By the time she awoke: I had the car seat in place; the diaper bag, too; eight ounces of formula mixed in a bottle; the card from Border's that told me my book had arrived; my grocery coupon wallet; my cell phone; and, the far-flung Isles of Langerham . . ..

We went to Target, to look for one of those bottles with a hole in the center, to help a baby grip it. I am going to train Mackenzie to hold her own bottle as quickly as I can. This will allow me to work at the computer, to read, to move from room-to-room as I do laundry, cook, clean, and accomplish projects, while she takes care of herself. Couldn't find one!!!!!!!!! Have they stopped making them. ARRRRRGGGGGGH!

Next, to Winn-Dixie. Easily the most-over-priced grocery store in the universe. Their prices are so out of whack, I wonder how they survive. I am certain a bunch of smart people have crunched the numbers. Their approach is not one I will routine attempt to confront in the markletplace. Shopping there is an aggravation. I did buy three one-liter Gatorades for Ike, 3/$5. I had a couple of coupon items that made sense.

At BiLo, we hit a few home runs ("taters" in the word of George Scott, late of the Boston Red Sox), and had a fun time. Six chili peppers for .29, salmon spread for $1.50, chicken breasts for $.99/lb, ground beef the same, pork chops at $1.19. I came home, fed the kid - she was awake the entire time we were out! When she went to sleep, I moved laundry along, and started cookin' Enchiladas - which became dinner. Stuffed chili peppers, one stuffed green pepper, pasta salad, "chef's" salad. I trimmed and de-boned the pork and chicken, and individually wrapped portions covered in marinade. Will freeze them after a night in the fridge.

Oh, yeah, back to the fantasy . . .

My tub is five-and-a-half feet long, so I can immerse my whole body as I bathe. I shampooed my hair, vigorously soaped my body, then shaved. I sipped my coffee during the course of my toilette.

After I laid the shaver on the shelf next to the tub, I sank into the water, so that the water line was above my ears. I could hear the steady slow trickle of the hot-only water there at my feet. I thought of a woman I know . . ..

After an indeterminate time of separation, abetted by circumstance and the secret intervention of a friend ( - yes, it was Ross - ) caused there to occur in the home city of the above-mentioned woman a reconnecting.

It was a weekend thing. The Friday meeting was as have been many meetings in the past between us - warm, meandering, unlike any either of us has shared with another. And, mere preamble . . ..

Within the fantasy was a mid-morning Saturday separation. Work - the pursuit of funds to assure food and shelter for Mackenzie, for Grace, for Laura, Sarah, Issac, and self - obviated an agreed-upon endpoint of the Friday sharing.

As I headed to my car, I heard, "When will you be done?"

It was true that I would be done at 3. I was planning to set sail for Augusta - a ten-hour hard drive - thereafter, and to begin to restore my local life as soon as possible Sunday, basically 24 hours after the present moment. I said as much.

"You could come here first."

I explained that it was 30 minutes out of my way, and that would be 30 minutes back, plus the hour-and-a-half that we would talk, yadayadayda . . ..

"Couldn't you just go back tomorrow?"

Well, of course I could. Most of what I have to do, I could do with a cell phone, and take up the balance Monday morning, yadayadayada . . ..

"Well, . . .. So?"

Well, so I have emotional issues about this. I can't start this again. It is easier and makes more sense to just appreciate what we have shared, yadayadayada . . ..

"Oh, . . .. What difference can one more meeting make? We've been through so much. We care about one another. You know that."

True enough, but I am worn out. I have other things tugging at me. It feels like you underestimate the strength of the feelings I am experiencing, yadayadayada . . ..

"Just for tonight . . .."

OK, yadayadayada . . ..

It was agreed that I would fix dinner at her house, from leftovers, and that we would go to a party to which she was invited. (She had only this day had a terrible set-to with a man with whom she had been involved, whose style she found smothering, and wanted to be seen independent of him.)

So, I worked. When I was done, I stopped on the way to her house and bought one bottle of a sprightly Chardonnay, one bottle of Mumm's, one ear of Silver Queen corn, one pint of sour cream, one box of raw sugar, and a half-pint of strawberries. (The rest would be leftovers!)

Around 4:30, I began to clear the leftovers from her refrigerator. We each had a cocktail as I bustled.

"Why don't you lay out what you are going to wear to the party while I do this?"

She went to her bedroom, and I made two salads. Small salads, with roasted peppers, Greek olives, half-inch hard-salami-and-provolone "wheels", a halved gherkin, with a bit of Stilton atop. (A nice garlic-infused olive oil and lemon dressing awaiting.) Saran-wrapped and chilled. I walked to her bedroom, bearing a modest sharp cheddar bruschetta, topped with a super-ripe mango compote smear, and a glass of the Chardonnay.

"Here . . .." She took a bite, and I finished the snack. I tipped the glass toward her tongue until a tablespoon passed her lips. She took the glass, and reciprocated.

Our eyes danced, our mouths' sides rose, and we pecked.

Back in the kitchen, I husked the ear of corn . . ..