Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Grown-Upness is Hard Friday Round-Up
One man friend once said to me “You drive like a man,” while another said, “Do you always ride the clutch like that?” The first comment made me proud, the second not so much. Now, I just respond, “I drive how I drive.” But it took thirty years to form the words.
When asked how she was, the young woman standing in the snow at the door of the outreach bus in her parka and snow pants smiled and said, “Good. How are you?” before taking her hot meal and bag lunch back across the street to wherever she was staying outside. I’ll never get used to it.
There are worse things than conflict. Tolerating conflict would be one of them.
Moving on is a talent which I have honed over decades of stepping over the bones of many affronts and mistakes. I move on with a very thick sweater, an insulated vest, mittens, protected, but I go to what’s next.
The people who shovel our snow pulled up in the dark last night, apologizing for how long it took, and then they took $10 off the bill. I was grateful for them and their apology, though unnecessary. The driveway and walk were clear like a kitchen floor after mopping even if I needed a flashlight to see.
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Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
Winter finally arrived here. I thought we weren’t going to have a winter, but suddenly, whammo, there it was. There are some things you never get used to, although lately what I’m not used to are living human being that don’t live in my house. It’s too cold to go out much and too icy. One fall per winter is all I allow myself.