Dearest Rachel –
You would think that, given the unusual nature of yesterday’s events, I would have a lot to tell you about them. However, upon waking up this morning, I somehow found myself with a head full of cobwebs, and little else; so much so that, despite having retired to bed before ten o’clock (and thereby leaving me the opportunity to work out before the boys started padding about the house, although without anything to listen to while I did so, since I’d gone through my usual podcast yesterday morning), when I first woke up at around five-thirty, I merely rolled over and fell back asleep for another couple of hours.
So I’m already running behind my usual day today, without so much to say as all that. Nevertheless, let me try to put something together, in the hope that it will suffice to entertain you until such time as I can get another letter out to you. Then again, who knows what can happen once I get started on this one?
After all, this was to be the last chance our usual friend group would have to assemble before Daniel and I fly out to Japan this first time this year. Although, given how rarely we’ve been able to do so for what seems like years now (I know it’s only been a month or two, but bear with me), what difference is it going to make that we’ll be halfway around the world for a couple of weeks? In the time frame that the six of us exist in, two weeks apart is hardly long enough to be noticed. Well, I’m sure Logan will be dealing with the empty house (not as if he hasn’t before and won’t again), but as for the girls, well… yeah, that’s just a typical month these days.
All that having been said, the day started unusually enough with much more of a weekend feel to it. We’d decided to attend church on Saturday evening with Kerstin, so as to free ourselves up to be home whenever the girls were to drop by (there was some debate about which side of noon they would come over. Eventually, it was decided that they would show up around half past one, but by then, we’d basically committed to Saturday night). I will say that it’s a bit liberating for both days; the Saturday service isn’t quite as packed out, and while there may be plenty of those reading over your shoulder who take Sunday mornings easy, it’s not a typical experience for us. I have to say, I get the appeal, even as I would say that I wouldn’t want to skip a weekend at church unless I was traveling (and even then, we could presumably tune in online). Of course, once the folks get back to their routine of attending the second service on Sunday in person, we’ll be there for them, but until then, we might be persuaded to make Saturdays more of a habit when I’m not fully booked for the weekend in the booth.
Not that I slept in yesterday like I did today (and I still don’t know why about the latter, but you can tell it bugs me, can’t you?). I put in more than my share of treadmill miles because of it, and I was still done in time to wash up and get the boys’ requests (if they had any) for me to pre-order from the local barbeque joint so they would have everything on hand for us when I came by to pick it up, rather than take the chance that they might run out when I dropped by a few hours later.
You see, while there are a few nice places across from church (ironically enough, since we weren’t going to be there yesterday morning otherwise) that I wouldn’t have minded hosting the gang at, even I’ve noticed that some of us aren’t as keen about going out someplace. They would rather meet at a home – specifically, our home, which makes sense, given the geography and the fact that three of us are already here. So, rather than gather at the one place in Randhurst Village I’d initially had in mind, I offered to pick something up from Big Ange’s – which I really can’t recall if it was up and running before you had to go, so I don’t know if you ever got to try it. Supposedly, it’s one of the best such places in the area – and given that Ellen is avoiding gluten, Logan is likewise trying to pass up on carbs, and Kerstin is doing her own take on the keto diet, three pounds of their smoked and spiced meats (plus a massive sandwich for Daniel, who just seems to like his meat in between slices of bread, contra everyone else) are more than good enough, seeing as we don’t concern ourselves with halal.
Granted, I got there (and back) earlier than the others were supposed to arrive (didn’t to be caught out of the house when they got there) and they showed up later than announced, leaving me somewhat puzzled as to how to keep everything warm in the meantime – I considered putting everything in the oven on its ‘warm’ function, but even that caused the clamshells to warp a little before I decided that wasn’t a good idea. At least it wasn’t long after that when Ellen showed up, and – after waiting another ten minutes or so – we started in on eating. As she put it when Kerstin arrived, “we waited for you like pigs at the trough,” which I could understand but I’ve never heard the expression before. Fortunately, there was more than plenty for Kerstin as well; I may have been the only one to microwave my food so as to render it suitably hot, but there were no complaints about the quantity of the repast.
As for the conversation, well… even given that there should be a lot of catching up, I don’t know that there was as much of it as any of us could have hoped for. We’re not so old as to get to the point of doing your folks’ “organ recitals,” but there was some talk about diets and what each of us do or don’t eat anymore. I inveigled Ellen into some of her stories about work, but the most interesting one seemed to have to do with the fact that some of her coworkers still can’t get over the termination of another that happened nearly a year ago. It was a spectacular meltdown, and her firing was well-deserved, but the current coworker is still awed by how much more peaceful and efficient the place is with the other girl gone.
As a side note, the departed girl was described by Ellen as a decent person and a good friend – just a terrible coworker. The funny part is, when we took Kris out to the Korean chicken place last week, I was trying to remember our last time there; I think it was shortly after this girl had been hired (and thus, a few months after your departure). At the time, Ellen was describing her in such terms that made me wonder if I should try to meet her, and… well, you can guess where my mind was, barely a month or two after losing you. Clearly, the fact that I never did was a ‘missed bullet’ situation, as every story about this girl thereafter seemed to get worse and worse, reaching almost comic book villainy before its culmination – which, as I said, was still being commented on after nearly a year of her absence. Go figure.
Meanwhile, it’s now Logan who takes over the role of vee-jay (it would be one thing if we were assembled in the bedroom where my rig is set up – and I was going to show Kerstin how to prompt A.I. art, but we ran out of time – but I’ll admit, it’s an awkward place to be eating), and he spun a few videos on weird news, along with a few music videos – all stuff we wouldn’t be able to do if we’d met at a restaurant. So I get where everybody’s coming from on that score. That, and where would Ellen be able to unpack her cross-stitching? We’d be asked to leave at some point, no doubt, if we’d made ourselves too comfortable like that.
Well… for all that I thought there was wasn’t much said or to say about yesterday, this seems like a suitably comprehensive letter, after all. The rest of the week probably won’t be nearly as interesting, though, so don’t get too used to it. Still, if you could keep an eye on us all in the meantime, honey, and wish us luck, that would be most appreciated, as I’m pretty sure we’ll need it.
Letters to Rachel 