Loner, Party of One

First, some more words for you to chew on. Lapsang souchong, Darjeeling, ottoman, marmoset, parapet, veranda, gazebo, jubilee, juxtapose, Sri Lanka, Constantinople, hubris, pathos, bathos, grotto, mojo, cockamamie, and charlatan. Not that I would ever use the word cockamamie—ever. I just like the way it sounds. I once lost a game of Scrabble after using my last three letters to spell the word bile. I was ahead until Mike turned bile into jubilee. I hate playing Scrabble or chess or poker with anyone who thinks they are smarter than I am. (Because they usually win.) I may be smart, but not when it comes to strategy. My opponents soon discover that my arrogance can only go so far to cover up my complete and total lack of forethought.

Here are a few words from the latest book I'm reading, Milan Kundera's The Curtain: panorama, anathema, kitsch, and vitriolic. I have always loved Kundera, even though I have to read it in an English translation that probably doesn't do it justice. This little book is a collection of essays that I would never recommend to anyone. It's pure literary criticism, and I love it. It's writing about writing. Terribly boring to anyone but me and maybe a handful of socially inept college English department grad students, so I won't tell you any more about it so as not to put you to sleep. Yet.

I thought of another food I haven't tried but probably hate. Rhubarb. I like the word, though. It looks like red celery, and people make pies out of it with strawberries. I'm just not big on desserts made out of vegetables. Sure, I'll eat carrot cake--but it's in spite of the carrots. And I'll eat pumpkin or zucchini bread, but only because it's there.

I'm sure many of you are wondering how I'm coping with my laundry situation. I only have three piles to fold and put away before my cleaning lady (God bless her) comes on Wednesday to do the rest. One good thing about doing laundry is that I sometimes find money in the washer or dryer to keep as payment. It's usually just a dime or a quarter here and there, and they just end up in the change jar. But this time, I hit the jackpot with 5 one-dollar bills plus 4 quarters. Those went straight into my wallet, baby. I don't know whose money it was. Probably one of the kids' hard-earned tooth-fairy cash. But it's mine now.

So Mike should be officially, "safely" in Iraq now. I have been fully briefed on the use and/or maintenance of: the riding lawnmower, the gas-powered weed eater, the leaf blower, the septic tank, the water softener, the sprinkler system, the propane tank, the soaker hoses, the Miracle Gro plant feeder, the weed killer, and the humidor. He checked me out on all of these as I took notes in hopes of remembering what should be done twice a week as opposed to what should be done every two weeks. After I tried out the leaf blower, he kindly took it out of my hand and offered, "A smart person would do it like this…" Apparently, I am supposed to get behind the blower's targets rather than mill about aimlessly in the middle of it all. (His remark reminded me of what my brother told me they say in Minnesota when someone displays lower-than-average intelligence. According to Kenny, these mild-mannered Midwestern pasty yet somewhat redneck Lutherans will say, "Y'know, a lotta guys'd done it this way…") When Mike was training me on how to feed the plants in the garden, he must have picked up on my anxiety about the whole thing. He said, "Don't worry; this will be a lot less stressful on you after I leave." (Ya think?) So now I just have to make sure I keep everything alive and in working order so I don't have to pull some Lucy Ricardo stunt and go out and replace all of our landscaping and the entire garden before he comes home. And God forbid I let those Cuban cigars dry out. I wonder if he'd notice if I were to put the Cuban labels on some Dominican Republic replacements. D'oh! So much for that idea. He may actually read this.

Most military wives know the obscure Murphy's Law that encourages all household hell to break loose every time the husband goes TDY. So far, I only have a leaky kitchen faucet. Actually, it's more of a steady drip--enough to make a difference in our water bill. I can fix that. Eventually. I'm just hoping the next two months won't bring on the scorpions, rodents, dog vomit, sick children, electrical or cable outages, car problems, or major appliance malfunctions. Now that I've listed those, I'll be sure to let you know when each of them happens. The truth is I've never minded being on my own and I've never felt helpless when he's gone. I have a full calendar, a full Netflix queue, and a full wine cabinet. No worries.

I have a lot more stories to tell soon, and now that I'm free to sit in front of the computer all night if I want to, you may be in for more drivel than you can stand. I just need to make sure I don't jump the shark here and lose my audience.