Sunny Side Up

I may be in trouble with Jack for writing this, but I have pondered the goofiness all week.  The week began with a discussion about eggs.  I have no idea why Harold and I were discussing eggs, but we were - he in his recliner, me in the rocker, Rubilee following the conversation from the loveseat.  Harold was telling about one of the best meals he has ever eaten, a dish with a fried egg served in a cafe in Searchlight, Nevada.  (Jack tells this same story - someday, I will have to go to Searchlight for these famous eggs).  He went on to talk about how he really only liked his eggs fried.  Rubilee, with obvious shock and indignation, said, "I never fry your eggs.  I scramble them."  He replied that he knew good and well that she scrambled his eggs, but he liked them fried.  A full blown argument ensued about how he liked his eggs.  Apparently, he is expected to like them the way she fixes them.   I snickered all the way home at the ludicrousness of the whole thing.  My grandparents are the same.  My grandmother instists that grandpa likes rice because she likes to cook it.  He doesn't like it.  He eats it because he knows better than to argue, but he doesn't like it. I actually really try not to do that to Jack, but I wonder how much he thinks I disregard his preferences.  It calls to mind a line from one of Chopin's stories about  "that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime."  Every time I read that line, I vow to be careful of what I impose . . . but it can be tricky, these things we take for granted.

This day led to a day where I turned Harold's truck wrong side out looking for his shoes.  His ankles were swollen and he couldn't wear his boots.  The shoes are missing in action so Harold just drives around wearing house shoes.

The week ended with learning that Rubilee probably felt bad because she had decided that she didn't need her blood pressure medicine and so hadn't been taking all of it.  No wonder she had felt bad.

On the upside, all three of my charges have been cheerful this week.  Rubilee is back to her old self, curious and interested in so many things.  She greeted me at the door today with articles on the Dustbowl and Ralph Ellison since she knew that I was teaching both.  Tomorrow, I think Bell and I are going to teach Harold how to FaceTime and IM on his ipad.  We are going to make some goodies for Jack for when he comes home Monday.  I think we will carve out some art time for those canvases we bought today.  Maybe I will grade the AP papers.  Maybe Bell and I will just veg.  Either way, we are hunkering down here for tomorrow for a quiet end our weekend.