I got to my sister and brother in law’s house yesterday. They live in the other New York. The one with 9 Democrats, 2 of which are my sister Marcia and her husband Paul.
My sister had her knee replaced so I came up to give them a hand.
It’s very odd stepping into another couple’s life even when you all love each other. As I said, they try very hard to leave no carbon footprint while mine is a big fat snowshoe., with socks.
They have a very specific evening routine. Dinner, TV and bed.
That’s something I can easily and happily get into except when they turned on the TV I banged my head on 1997. They watched “Cheers” and followed it up with a little “Friends”. I think 1967 crept in for a minute because I’m fairly sure I saw a little Raymond Burr.
Until she is recovered, Marcia is temporarily using a walker. Interestingly enough she gets around the house quite well considering she has one dog the size of a cow and another who appears to be perpetually on speed. They know she isn’t herself though so they move near her very gently.
Even though I’m a shitty cook I’m trying to prepare the meals when I can, which brings up that footprint thing in spades. Tonight my brother in law Paul told me that he doesn’t like me using a microwave oven because “who knows what all those rays do to the food you’re eating”. I wanted to tell him “I know what it does. It cooks it and whatever else it does it won’t affect us because we’re almost a million.
And nothing is garbage in this house. If you can’t eat it, wear it, plant it or pack something into it you can paint it and put a frame on it.
This place is nothing like New York City. I went to the supermarket this afternoon. Everyone was so nice that I felt like I was going to bump into Beaver Cleaver in the vegetable aisle.
If I had I’d have knocked him over with my cart. That nice thing gets old very fast.
As sweet as I’m being they aren’t really paying much attention to me. I was sitting in Marcia’s room this afternoon when I realized that I was wearing 2 different shoes and no one noticed. They weren’t anything alike either. Well of course they were both black but one had laces and the other was a loafer.
In NYC even my doorman would have goofed on me for that.
I’ll be glad to get home. I’m afraid I’m getting soft.
I can’t wait to see you. Soon! Best wishes to Marcia for a happy, healthy recovery. If this kneecap don’t work out, I’m sure we have a few loose joints hanging around the house that we can spare. xoxo