My dad, held forth happily from Cedars where Aliki has been by his side, even sleeping there and reporting dutifully to me all of his bathroom functions, using the terms pee pee and fu fu which were used by my mother and father during my childhood, the later, fu fu was unique to my family to the best of my knowlege, although my research has been less than vast. I guess it is sort of quaint that my dad taught this embarrassingly stupid alternative to poop to English- as a third or fourth- language speaker Aliki. Tomorrow he is going to have a pacemaker installed implanted inserted or whatever they do. He is almost ninety and even though he has trouble hearing me, it was great to hear him happy and optimistic on the phone and to know that my stalwart (although fucking crazy and I say that to her face) stepmother is at his side. They are both fine, if not more than occasionally annoying, people and I love them both dearly.The boys are returned from camp and they are the same and changed and beautiful. I missed them so. Both are eager to return to Jew Camp next summer, as I remember going to my happy place of Camp JCA many times over the long , often lonely, other 49 weeks of the year. The scholarship they got was a gift, but one that I will be giving too, with unreduced tuitions for many future summers. Another addition to what I balefully refer to as expenses essential enough to tap into equity for.
On Saturday we labored mightily to get the boys situated in the basement upon their Sunday return from camp, so that their previous room could be totally demolished on Monday. Which it was. And the boys love their new suite and spent the day decorating their individual rooms. The main floor of our house is shrouded in plastic and gaping and treacherous and coated with thin toxic seeming ghostly dust. This afternoon, the ceiling in Spud’s freshly painted spiffy new room collapsed due to some plumbing problems for which the contractor blames the plumber who blames the drain guy who blames the contractor.
My family is together after our longest separation. I hope we never live in more pathetic situations than we live in now that the wall is down. Coffee cups and loaves of Trader Joe’s breads coated with fine gray cremains. And what an asshole I am that this is my biggest problem and boo hoo hoo, I may not be able to go to Big Sur. Himself is here, bailing basement water and laying to dry a dozen baseball caps. Niall is here, screaming at the Dodgers and stoically taking in the flooding of his brand new room and the wreckage of his stuff. Leo is here, so says the trail of dirty dishes from t.v. to computer and the incessantly ringing telephone (cellphone TKO vs. Magic Mountain).We’re all home and each of us has said fuck today. The fan spins. Vin Skully’s on the t.v. I was so lonely.
2 comments:
And it's not even Monday. I guess since we're not Mormons, jack or otherwise. Yeah, I said "fuck." Said it loud if not proud.
I'd've been content with the old plumber who you called a speed freak but knew how to turn off the water post-haste instead of its gravitational gushing coloring my sopping gray once reddish-brown mop whatever garish OC bleached rice rocket racer blonde streak it looks erroneously like in this shot from your purportedly insurance documenting digital camera shot.
And, yes, I know that your dream kitchen will come true, that I will have to keep riding the wretched "rapid transit" [sic] to keep you in double dishwashers and the kids sent weeks on end to Jew camp until at least they lose their virginity, and myself in wrangling obscure Irish books-- increasingly post-Glencolmcille idealistically purchased in both of the 26 Counties' official languages!
Ahh...the use of fu-fu is older than you think...I used it as a toddler, bringing it with me for general use within my adoptive family. It was only until 1982, (when I graduated high school) that fu-fu was replaced with the S word.
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