Saturday, June 19, 2010

Almost Father's Day


I was writing a not-very-exciting post about fathers and how I never had one and how grateful I am for the fathers of my children which was going to have to be entitled "This Is Not A Pity Post" when a big storm came through and blew my power out. The lights dimmed and came back on, dimmed and came back on and then dimmed and were gone.
A tree down on a line, no doubt.
This happens all the damn time in the summer here. There are more trees in Jefferson County than you can imagine and branches drop and fall and crash all the time. I spent a half hour this afternoon in my own yard, picking up fallen branches. Hell, you live in a rain forest, you have to expect your power's going to be interrupted now and then, especially with these quick summer storms we get with rain and lightening and wind. They're why we have these trees and they cool things off and if the power goes out, so be it.
I lit that kerosene lamp you see in the picture above and chopped up a bowl full of tomatoes by touch and its light and added some garlic, some eggplant and some onions and pesto and cooked them down on the gas stove and I was going to boil some pasta in the dark, eat my supper and go to bed. Why not?
I plugged in the Goodwill phone which doesn't require electricity and I talked to Kathleen and Mr. Moon who is still on the island and then had a real chat with my across-the-street neighbor whose power was out too, of course.
Then I came back in the house and took that picture you see above and was about to strike a match and start the pasta water when the electricity came back on. Lights, air conditioning, internet and I'm assuming the satellite and TV too.
There goes my plan to finish Barbra Kingsolver's newest novel by flashlight in bed after my bowl of fresh tomato and pesto pasta.
Nah. Not really. I'm still going to eat that for dinner. I'm just going to finish the novel by the light powered by electricity.
Lis called me before my power went out and told me that when they got home they discovered that their power had been out since they'd left and every damn thing in their refrigerator had spoiled. What rich irony after helping me save all the stuff in my refrigerator.
Ah, the metaphors just never end around here this weekend.
It's still raining. We've had the best year for rain since I lived here and yet, Kathleen, who lives about ten miles away, has had to go out every night and water with the hose. Weather patterns are odd.
Life is odd. You can bank on that.

Well, I'm going to go in and boil my pasta water, make a bowl of fresh tomato and eggplant and basil goodness. Go take a shower and get in bed and finish that novel which I do highly recommend. The Lacuna.

Mr. Moon will be home tomorrow. It will be Father's Day. I won't have to make any damn calls at all to wish any damn man happy Father's Day. Okay, maybe I'll call my ex and thank him for being a good father to the babies we had together. Some years I do that, some years I don't. It depends. And I got Mr. Moon a few presents today and a stupid card and I'll make him that dessert he loves so much which contains pecans and butter and chocolate pudding (which I make from scratch, of course) and whipped cream with cream cheese.

Dear GOD my kitchen smells good. Garlic and basil and tomatoes. Doesn't get much better than that. And it smells great out on the porch, too. Rain washed dirt and green exploding everywhere.

Nah. I didn't have a daddy. But I've known a few good ones.

And I am who I am with just the DNA that my father and grandfathers gave me and that's as much as any of us can ask for, even though we might have wished for more.

You get what you get. You choose what you choose. You eat your fresh tomato pasta and you get in bed and you read the words that a master wordsmith has written and the fathers of your children are out there in the world and you give thanks to them because they gave you your babies and were daddies as well as fathers and I'm plenty grateful for that.

Happy Father's Day to all the men who are daddies who read this. You have no idea what influence you have, whether the children whom you are tending are you own biologically are not.

You make all the difference in the world.
And I send my love to you on this rainy evening from Lloyd. I send my love and I send my gratefulness and I send a reminder to kiss your babies.

That's all.

14 comments:

  1. YOU are the master wordsmith. Yes, weather patterns and life are odd and there is no better scent I can think of right now than garlic and basil and tomatoes sauteeing on a gas stove. Hope you enjoyed your meal and your evening and I know you will welcome home Mr. Moon tomorrow ~ sweet dreams!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Lulumarie- Damn but that pasta was good. And I think I'm going to go make the chocolate pudding and bake the pecan/butter/sugar/flour crust right now. Get it ready for tomorrow when I'll whip the cream. Lord. I wish I didn't love food so much.

    ReplyDelete
  3. All that you are eating and thinking about eating sounds great to me. I have some pesto in the reefer too. I love that stuff. Basil is awesome. No rain here today. Just threatened but not a drop. Maybe tomorrow after harvesting in the morning.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You know what I had for dinner? Steak! Ha, but no power loss. I went swimming with Lily and Shayla and the bebes today - you should have been there. Waylon was unsure at first, but loosened up. Owen, of course, kept lunging away because he's already convinced he can swim. Why did I tell you this in a comment instead of an email?

    ReplyDelete
  5. Glad to see your recommendation on the newest book -will have to get it.

    Love you

    ReplyDelete
  6. I think it's all the same, DTG. I'm glad you did. Didn't. You know.

    Sometimes it's so nice in the candlelight. Powercuts can be magic.

    Is the BK novel the Lacuna? Or is there a new one? I started reading it, typed out the bit about the dancers in the square to Danielle, and then it disappeared, and I haven't found it since. Gah!

    I also REALLY want to read her one about living off her own garden, but I haven't yet either.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Babara Kingsolver is a wonderful writer and father's are fundamental. I've written that elsewhere - about fathers that is - tonight on someone else's blog and I write it again now in honour of your gorgeous post here - all that unexpected electricity breakdown and how you went on regardless. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete
  8. i too am reading barbara's book. although most of the words have flown into my heart as i sit in the white washed infusion center. captive audience that i am with all that time. and well, an infusion center has a back up generator just in case the weather should announce itself with real verve.
    as you do here...
    you start off like a small lull of quiet life, and always manage to take me by storm, to the dark places where lightening pierces my heart with more light,just
    by contrast.

    for this and so much more...
    i thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Wow I woke up mad at my husband over some petty comment. But after reading your post I am grateful he is such a good dad. He has two lovely cards sitting on the shelf this morning. One from our 25 year old daughter and one from our 27 year old son. Both grateful for having a consistent, caring and ever lovin' dad.

    ReplyDelete
  10. That sound delicious.
    I'm glad you like that book, was thinking of it for my book group.
    You're right on about the father/daddy stuff.
    Can we get a photo of that crazy sounding dessert, or better yet, handsome Mr Moon eating it?
    Love the lamp light pic too.
    Love you.
    Thanks for your comment on my birthday blog post.
    Meant a lot to me.
    You do, you know.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Syd- I just had the pasta again for my breakfast. It was even better than last night.

    DTG- Comment, e-mail, what's the difference? Steak, huh? Maybe you'd trade some organic meat for some cucumbers? Wish I'd seen those boys in the water.

    SJ- I did not finish it last night and am glad because I have MORE to read.

    Jo- Yep. The Lacuna.

    Elisabeth- Thank YOU!

    rebecca- You have no idea what those words mean to me. I am so glad that you can travel in books while you have to sit in the infusion center. That is a sort of magic which you need.

    Sandra- Happy Father's Day to HIM. I am in awe of all good daddies.

    Bethany- And you mean a lot to me. I'll try to get that picture.
    Love you, dear.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Big Funny Kid and I spent a few Father's Days with Mr. Moon and they were some of our favorite memories.

    Happy Father's Day, Mr. Moon.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Yes. Happy Father's Day to all the fathers who are daddies. I am blessed with a father who is a daddy and so are my children, and so are yours, with M. Moon. A happy week to them all. And love to you.

    ReplyDelete
  14. I found it! It somehow found its way onto my husband's book shelf and thusly disappeared.

    I love that we'rereading the same book at the same time.

    ReplyDelete

Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.