Magically Delicious: It’s the thought that counts!

I would like to begin today with an inquiry. Does ANYBODY know what you do with the hair of the dog that didn’t bite you? I feel like shit. I don’t think I am sick or even coming down with something. None of the traditional signs are there. It feels a whole lot like a hangover without the joy of the night before. My head is pounding and remaining upright seems more trouble than it is worth. I don’t know what it is, but I hope it passes soon. Since I am in this miserable and semi-vegitative state, I thought I would keep myself warm under the weight of my failing laptop. Don’t worry though, to prevent the usual singeing of my pubis, I am wearing two pairs of pants.

From a purely administrative standpoint life seems to be on course. We have nearly wrapped up all the paperwork necessary to finish the insurance claim over our equally singed house and I have even managed to catch up on the laundry to the point that the only things left to be laundered are currently on our backs. For anyone who has a traveling spouse, you know how very important this is. When they do eventually return, the cumulative effects of a massive laundry dump can set you back weeks, maybe even months if your equipment is of the French variety.

Things over at WordPress are coming along as well. Jumping ship must not be uncommon in the blogging world, so they have a very nice feature that has allowed me to import the entirety of my Blogger account over to the WordPress portal. There are a few formatting gremlins that I have yet to address, but it is out there and appears to be functioning. I encourage you to take a look and let me know what you think. If someone would be so kind as to post a comment, it would help me tremendously during this “feeling out” period. I don’t necessarily care for the idea of dual posting, so the quicker I can come to a decision, the better off I will be. I will continue to “kick the tires”over at WordPress, so we will continue to refer to it as Jack Version 3.1 Beta for the time being and changes will likely occur with some frequency until I have tweaked it to something I can appreciate. I know I should take you all into account more, but I’m selfish and not open to criticism. For the time being, the Blogger account will remain the more reliable source for my frequent rants, so stick with it until advised otherwise. Now . . . on with the show . . .

“It’s the thought that counts”. This is typically a phrase uttered by those that didn’t give it much thought. It’s a copout, a plea bargain, a way to save face, and we have all said it at some point or another. These days, the wife and I seem to be like ships in the night where holidays are concerned. As we pass, there is a vague awareness that the other is there, but absent a collision, we simply sail right on by. Unfortunately, this will likely be the way of things for a while. With a fairly robust travel schedule ahead, we will find ourselves apart more than together in coming months and I must admit I am not relishing that thought. She is my partner, my homegirl, my best friend, my lover, my confidant and of course my reality check. Without her around it is damned hard to keep wind in my sails and steering this mother fucker is a real bitch without a co-pilot. It is important to note that we are rapidly approaching our 12th Anniversary and perhaps there is hope that we will get this one right.

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day were a wash. Both of us were out of the country on each other’s day, so our recognition of each other on these days was somewhat lacking. Well, lacking from her end and non-existent on mine. I wasn’t even thoughtful enough to give her a card. She showed me up a bit . . . SORT OF. The boys are a bit young yet for independent recognition of these two holidays since they aren’t on the school calendar, so they usually need a liberal dose of help from Mom and Dad as well as their teachers to get it right. We received the usual craft made objects that make you go AAAAWWE, but we like to throw in a little extra when we can. A small gift and a card usually do the trick. Though I completely failed in my duties, except for a bag of peanut butter M&Ms that I brought her from my travels (which I promptly ate), she did manage to get me a couple of cards and put the children in charged of dispensing them in her absence. They of course needed a reminder that they had them, so the presentation lacked a certain fanfare.

I say that she “SORT OF” showed me up, because upon receipt, it was apparent that what I had gotten were not Father’s Day wishes but a blank postcard with some dogs on the front wishing me a “Hello from the Gang” (This was from the wife), and a belated birthday card from the lads. Now, either my command of the French language is far superior to those who share a roof with me or someone was REALLY pressed for time. I imagine if I were to locate the receipt, there would be more important items on the list and these cards were an “OH SHIT” realization at the last moment. I say this all with a great deal of tongue in cheek of course. Who am I to complain, the wife didn’t even get a card, just and empty M&M package and some well wishing. Yeah, that’s right, I am a real Casanova. No wonder she paused for so long when I asked her to marry me. She did say “Yes” didn’t she? Maybe she was just being polite. At anyrate, I am going to do everything I can to make it up to her on our Anniversary. I might even SHARE the M&Ms this time! Like I said . . . Casanova.

While talking about sweets and as a parting thought, I began pouring through another book I purchased while in the States. I have consumed nearly all of them in short order, but have saved this particular one for last as it can be read in segments without losing the story line. Hopefully I will be able to string it out till I can get my hands on some other volumes in English sometime around Christmas. It is essentially a series of essays written by Bill Bryson entitled I’m a Stranger Here Myself. I may have mentioned it before since I got a sneak peak at a sample on the wife’s Kindle. Essays might not be the appropriate word. They are actually a series of newspaper articles he wrote for and English (UK) periodical after he had returned home to the United States after nearly 20 years abroad. He is married to an English gal and spent essentially all of his adult life in the UK, so his brilliantly funny take on what it is to “Repatriate” oneself is nothing short of genius and very near and dear to my heart given our current circumstance. Between moments of nearly urinating on my bed in fits of laughter, I realized a certain similarity in our writing. Of course, I don’t hold a candle to him in literary ability, but I keep running into experiences lived in reverse. Most notably, on the heels of my recent “Sausalito” post, I read a segment of his book that, honest to God, described the Cereal isle in and American grocery store. Keep in mind that I had NOT read this prior to penning my post. I am including an excerpt from his work below. I hope you read it with as much enjoyment as I did.

In closing, I want to point out that what they say is true . . . absence DOES make the heart grow fonder, and after two weeks without my spouse, I feel nearly starved for her presence. Perhaps that is why I feel so shitty. That being said, I wanted to tell her how much I love her and that I look forward to having her back where she belongs. While writing and painting are my true passions, music is perhaps my “raison d’etre” (spelled that all by myself, though my keyboard won’t put the house over the first “e” . . . still proud). As a side note, I can even conjugate the verb “etre” (Yeah, now I am showing off). Anyway, for me, a day without music is a day without sunshine. It was simply too much effort to continue my prior “what I am listening to” portion of the blog, but I believe it is time to put it back in circulation from time to time. With that in mind, I am submitting a second post with a musical dedication to my wife. Simply follow the link. This is from an artist by the name of Sean Hayes who is on permanent repeat on my iPod at the moment. Everything I feel, he seems to be able to put it to music. Like Bryson, he is BRILLIANT. Enjoy.

Excerpt from I’m a Stranger Here Myslef by Bill Bryson:

“So I accompanied her to the supermarket and while she was off squeezing melons and pricing shitake mushrooms, I made for the junk-food section ---which was essentially all the rest of the store. Well, it was heaven.

The breakfast cereals alone could have occupied me for most of the afternoon. There must have been two hundred types. Every possible substance that could be dried, puffed, and coated with sugar was there. The most immediately arresting was a cereal called Cookie Crisp, which tried to pretend it was a nutritious breakfast but was really just chocolate chip cookies that you put in a bowl and ate with milk. Brilliant.

Also of note were cereals called Peanut Butter Crunch, Cinnamon Mini Buns, Count Chocula (‘with Monster Marshmallows’), and a particularly hardcore offering called Cookie Blast Oat Meal, which contained four kinds of cookies. I grabbed one of each of the cereals and two of the oatmeal --- how often I’ve said that you shouldn’t start a day without a big, steaming bowl of cookies ---- and sprinted with them back to the shopping cart.

‘What’s that?’ my wife asked in the special tone of voice with which she often addresses me in retail establishments.

I didn’t have time to explain. ‘Breakfast for the next six months,’ I panted as I sprinted past, ‘and don’t even think about putting any of it back and getting granola’”


Like I said . . . Brilliant.  Until next time.  R.