The Fir Tree (F)

     Sometimes, in the early spring Alice and I, hand in hand, would walk slowly down the muddy street to the end of the cul de sac where a well-worn path rose from a narrow creek that younger children often splashed in during the warmer months, but we were intent on crossing to the other side where a less obvious path wound its way up the hill to a crest overlooking a large cemetery--the careful geometry of headstones set into the slope and here and there towering ancient solitary firs, lower limbs stretching out toward the ground in all directions and so our destination beneath the lowest boughs where I could spread a blanket--the snow recently melted--and we would lie down holding each other, kissing, lips and cheeks and hands clasped between us, and sometimes a comment or two barely above a whisper about classmates or family, and more kissing, and then she would turn and we would spoon in the late afternoon sun, and I would nuzzle her hair and smell the flowery shampoo--my eyes closed until no earth, no sky, no reason, no one else alive, there beneath the fir tree.

Lyman 2026

Chatterbox

The question broad, the tone plaintive--so it seemed to me. "What do you think about what's going on?"

Of course, I am no member of the commentariat. So, rarely do I bother to opine in any extended fashion.

However, you asked.

When I heard the news of the US-Israeli attack on Iran, my first thought went to Tibet conquering the powerful Tang dynasty of China in 763 (yes, I had to check the date). Coincidentally most of my life parallels an aggressive Chinese attack on Tibet geographically and culturally. 

So it goes, the rise and fall, rise and fall. That idea exists in an immense river of historical time, but my life span is most likely only 80 or so years. A very, very, very, very small splash. An interest in history, I think, induces such thinking. Or maybe just mine.

Totally underwhelming notion? Probably so.

And Israel's history of going after perceived military threats dates back certainly as far as 1981 when the Osirak nuclear reactor (again, had to check date and location) in Iraq was bombed under the leadership of Prime Minister Menachem Begin. I'm not voting yay or nay on the policy, merely acknowledging this guiding principle exists in the world we live in.

Unsatisfying thought-wise? I get that.

Saw today estimates that Gaza may need $51B to rebuild and the US may have spent $50B on the war--but not war war--so far. I don't know what to make of such numbers. What Iran faces cost-wise, I haven't heard. Paging Brown and Root?

And, no, I didn't get a insider's heads up on US war plans or diplomatic insights.

Truthfully, I'm more interested in how my grapes are doing. The vine is much more developed this spring. I credit its growth spurt to my continuing neglect these 4 years.

I do think about workers investing in the stock of their employing company who get fired and then watching the stock value increase.   

I'm holding off planting tomatoes until May.

Reuters and others are reporting the UN believes North Korea is boosting its nuclear weapon production. Just noting.

I'm not in a frame of mind to connect dots, to drill down, to stir readily. Were I 50 or younger, maybe my temperament would be otherwise. 

By the way, I think identifying Boomers as being born between 1946 and 1964 is nonsense. A kid turning 20 in '66 and another in '84--what the hell do they have in common.

 

Winter (F)

I let myself into Cap'n Harry's apartment. "Yo!"

"Yo!" 

"Got your mail."

"And the Jack?"

"And the Jack."

"Anything good?"

"Sailing World. Looks like a few bills."

"Throw them on the counter and pour us one."

Harry was in his big chair facing the corner windows so he could watch over the harbor from the fort back up to the connector.

I carried a stool over and handed him his drink.

"No drink? What's going on?"

"Not now. I'm taking Cygnet down to Jacksonville."

"Jacksonville?" He shook his head.

"Some big party or something."

"That boat's too good to be a party barge. Catch the front and could be a fast ride. Who's crewing?"

"I'm taking Walt."

"So you and Sue--"

"No. Just giving the kid another chance."

"Right."

"Just like you gave me."

"Hell yes I did. Several times."

"Okay. Fine. Several times."

"But nothing with Sue?"

"Not a thing."

"I don't get you two."

"Nothing to get."

"Uh-huh."

"Give it a rest, Harry."

"Sure. I need another one."

"Okay. What did the doc say about the leg?"

"I get to keep it."

"Funny. What did he really say?"

"Pretty much that. But I need to stay off it for another few weeks. Then maybe in the spring I can start p t."

I handed him his drink. "That's something."

"Yep, it's something."

"You going to be able to come down for Race Week?"

He set his glass down and looked out to the river. "So no go with you and Sue?"

"Jeez, Harry. Don't be an ass about it."

"You see Carlton Franks died?"

"Yep. Ninety-six. Amazing."

"He was a funny old coot."

I stood up. "I can't imagine living another 34 years."

"Hell, 34 days."

"I hear you, Harry." 

He grunted.

"Should I lock the door?"

"Leave it open. Rhonda's coming by."

"Take it easy, Harry."

"Yep. Thanks for coming by."

"See you when I get back."

"Got no where to go."

Lyman 2026