Spring after all
It looks like we are going to have spring after all. Yes, the sun is getting higher in the sky, the birds are calling for their mates, the potholes are getting deeper, and the snow is turning to water. The biggest sign to me, however, is the last outside plant that I tried to overwinter has died.
My late wife was a plant-saving magician. There was green in almost every window of the house, and an occasional bloom to brighten things in the winter gloom. She knew when to cut back and water to keep things living until time to put them back outside. I, on the other hand, am a plant mortician. I either over-water them and they rot, or I under-water them and they dry up and turn brown. Next October I will leave the outdoor plants outside to freeze like the rest of us and buy fresh in the spring. Of course I say that every fall and then I succumb to my emotional being, taking in that geranium because it fought so hard during our dry spell, etc. We’ll see.
When I retired, my wife gave me the checkbook and said, “I’ve paid the bills since we were married, now it’s your turn.” So I took over the financial end of the relationship. Neither of us had any idea who would be the first to go, but maybe there was some force at work that we didn’t recognize. I thought of that while working on bills the other day. I hope my writing this column will prod some couple to think about the future enough that a wife will encourage her mate to take part in some tasks he doesn’t do and vice versa. He could politely say, “Honey, would you take the car to get the oil changed?” If he doesn’t get hit with a serving spoon, she could respond, “Sure, dear, you can finish cleaning up the kitchen while I’m gone.”
Oh, yes, I know; you and your mate are immortal so there’s no need to prepare for the inevitable. I guess I felt the same way. Only I thought my wife was immortal, I would die first, so why worry about it.
I saw an article in a newspaper describing a company making urns from sections of trees, putting the ashes with some seeds in the hollowed out tree, and, burying it so the seeds will germinate and grow a living tree completing the life-death-life cycle. Very interesting idea, I would say. Both my wife and I were traditionalists in the burying business so that wouldn’t have worked with us. She wanted to be buried in the ground in a casket and I’m following suit. To avoid family squabbling, on the advice of my attorney, I’m all paid up and ready to go.
After discussing my pancake frying problems with the two better cooks in the family, both males, I think in addition to being a poor cook, I might have an equipment problem. I use a very large Teflon-coated frying pan. OK; so I’m lifting up the outer edges of the pancakes per package directions and they look good, but the inner part of the cake is burning. In other words, my pancakes are like my life: uneven!
Happy St. Patrick’s Day; email@example.com.