Good Friday Thoughts

The rev invited me to see some amazing singing that's happening at her church today. I was going to do it (fancy opera singers were on the bill). Then I looked at the church calendar and realized that it is Good Friday, the saddest day on the calendar. I can't do more sads. My feelings are too close to the surface, and this morning was Pilates, a conversation with the oncologist, a conversation with our oncology nurse navigator and a followup / stitch removal at the dermatologist. I'm 50-50 -- of four spots he biopsied two were cancer. One will get burned off, and the other is in the middle of my face and will require Mohs. On the way home the central character of the memoir I'm listening to was murdered. 

I put on my makeup and everything, thinking I was going to hear Bach, but no. Jesus death is too depressing.

In other news I've had a mixed bag of dreams lately. Last night I dreamed that I was at my old restaurant and my section filled up and I simply couldn't get to everyone fast enough (a recurring dream). Then someone wanted a crawfish milkshake. I asked my boss if we had crawdads that week and she said yes, and it was evident that I would have to cook and shell my own crawdads in order to make the milkshake.

A different dream saw me at the forklift factory, which was kinda laid out like a supermarket. Donald Trump was on the PA system telling us that there would be no more awards given to employees, that it cost too much money. I couldn't believe that he had infiltrated my work life somehow, so I put my fingers in my ears and sang really loud so I could drown him out in my own head.

A very rewarding dream had me in a familiar situation in which I had taken incompletes in a few classes repeatedly (I used to do this in undergrad) and then took these classes again and totally flaked until the end. I went to the final but was obviously going to flunk. Instead of reminding myself that I could take these classes again I stopped to realize that none of this mattered because I was about to retire and had already had a career. Now *that* was pretty awesome. 

If I could take control of my dreams more often I'd probably sleep better.

It's Saturday

We're waiting for my oldest friend in the world that nice boy to arrive. I was busy pressing "publish" on that last post and we had heard the mailman's truck pull up and the doorbell rang so mrguy opened the door thinking it was either our friend or mailie. Instead, it was the Jehovas. "Hey, how are you doing since Covid?" asked a man in a straw hat, wearing a tie. "Oh hi. We're waiting for a friend right now so we need to go," says mrguy.

Which reminded him of a story. Many many years ago when some of his friends were young and sharing a house, the Jehovas came to the door. While one of the roommates was engaging with the folks at the front door, the guy said "We just want people to read the Bible". At that moment, two roommates appeared with pantry items. As the story goes, they held cans in their outstretched hands and said "We just want people to eat corn" and chased the now freaked-out visitors down the walk.

We just want people to eat corn.

Happy Saturday.

No Such Thing As A Free Lunch

Friday was great. Thursday kicked my butt, and it was really great to be able to work from home. Plus we got beauty mail -- some Bautz'ner senf (mittelscharf).

My office mate was such a good boy in the afternoon, sleeping sweetly on a favorite pillow.

Yesterday was a banner day. I was allowed to visit my mom in her apartment for the first time since she gave us both Covid. It was pretty nice, all in all. No biting or throwing or cursing or wanting people dead.

She was on Norco for pain, because of her fractured pelvis (but she is apparently walking a bit). I could barely get her to raise her head, but she was really cozy because I was there. I mostly just held her hand. Her caregiver that day was super nice, and when her back was turned my mom woke up enough to stick out her tongue to diss her. Oy, mama!! Also she woke up just enough to hate on Novak Djokovic, the tennis player she dislikes. I swear that the only full sentence she uttered was "He's been better recently". Other than that I could just interpret. When she rubbed the ring on my right hand, I knew that that was her way of saying that the rubies in it were from my grandmother, for example. Her caregiver brought her lunch, and I slipped away.

I was super happy to see free candy by the front door!! I missed Tootsie Rolls this Halloween, so I selected one and walked toward the parking lot. I looked down to see that it had been stickered with a Bible verse -- payment for my sin of eating sugar.

I am used to verses on my paper placemat on Alaska Airlines lunches, and on stuff you get at In and Out (which I've only been to once, that I can recall). This was a first.

Tongan Feast

This weekend I cared for the mama. We had such a good time. We watched about 4 episodes of Fixer Upper, 1.5 Madea movies (a weekend of firsts!) and went to a Tongan church festival.

Both of the mama's caregivers are from Tonga, and they attend a Methodist church with an all-Tongan community of parishioners. Once a year they have a big food and tithing event, and we were invited to attend. In fact the reason that I was caring for the mama last weekend was that the ladies were unavailable / cooking / preparing for / recovering from the event.

We started the day choosing outfits. Mom wanted to wear black pants, so I put some on her that my sis bought her at the thrift store. She looked exactly like the character Carl from the movie Up! We got her all dressed and then she looked teary and I asked her why she seemed sad. "It's ok, but I'm sorry she's gone," she said. It became clear that she thought our caregiver died! Once we got that cleared up it was a much nicer day.

We got in my first ever Lyft, and knew we were at the right destination when we saw gigantic tents. The music was deafening and fun. 99% of our day was in Tongan, and I had no idea what the customs or rules were. We sat at one of dozens of tables that had long, tall platforms on them. Each table was identically set with drinks, towers made of cans of corned beef, cakes, and roasted pigs. 20 or 30 of them, each one ridden by two cooked lobsters that were held onto them by means of skewers. As more guests arrived, each set of them had a cooler or two that contained identical portions of tasty treats, enough for every one of the many, many, many tables at the event. These little portions went underneath the pig platforms. Here are a few photos. The first was taken over my shoulder, with the minimum of pig in it. The second, is the hands of the lady sitting on the other side of the table, who I never saw, because there was a roasted pig at eye-level between us the whole time.

 

 

Above, you can see fried shrimp, fish marinated in coconut and lime, with tomato and cucumber. An interesting kind of lau lau that seemed like it was made with Underwood Deviled Ham, enormous white sweet potatoes and bottles of Snapple, which were both beverages and columns that held up the cans of corned beef.
 
Whenever the music was blaring, ladies danced. And then the music would stop mid-song.

Eventually the dignitaries arrived, the religious parts occurred, the choir (including one of our caregivers) sang, and the eating commenced. While we ate, there was also a call and response from men seated on the ground, involving a gigantic kava root and a more gigantic hog. Four strapping Tongan men struggled under the weight of the pig, which they brought in on a litter. This is the kava root.

 

Eventually, there was a lovely speech given by our main caregiver, whose family was in charge of the largesse we were treated to. She was a Queen, I tell you.

She arranged for the mama to have a gigantic gardenia lei, which was flown in from Hawaii. Here is the mama and our caregiver (in purple). I love this woman. She is so fun and kind and good with mom and all of us.

She was so thrilled that we went, and we had such a good time. It was a real treat to be able to participate in something that was so different from what I know.

They insisted that I take home a lobster. That will be a story as well, I imagine.

Germany 2017 Post 16

Easter was the day we'd been looking for.

We drove back into town. It was cold and ominous. I was hoping for snow but mrguy, who was doing all the driving, was not.

People assemble early for the festivities, and in the hours we waited in the cold across the street from the church the weather changed frequently. I kept trying to cheer up mrguy during the freezing rain, with moderate success.

While the service was happening inside, a man in a floppy hat appeared on the steps of the church and made an announcement. Then church let out, and the priests in beautiful garb holding banners spoke.

Then, the horsemen.

A procession of roughly 50 men wearing tails and top hats slowly rode the block around the church and then up to the church steps. The priests handed off the banners to the lead horsemen, who placed them in holsters somewhere on the bridles of the horses, and then they began singing hymns in Sorbian while circling the church again. This is what we came for. Singing dudes on horses.

The horsemen ride like this to all of the nearby Wendish communities, stopping at each to sing. The horses are watered and rested, the men get a bite to eat, and then they ride on. By around 3pm they return to the original church in Bautzen.

As for us? We were officially done with Easter. We headed home, where our hosts had opened their dining area across the street to locals who wanted an Easter breakfast. It seemed to be mostly them and their friends, with some big sweet dogs joining in to be petted.

Then back to our cozy apartment, where we drank coffee and read the New York Times all day.

We ate the last of the white asparagus for dinner.