The Republic trembles, but there's laundry to do
Recently back from church—the lectionary this morning got around to Jacob’s dicey situation at the ford of the Jabbok after he sent away “his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children,” a passage I often think about when I hear those types go on about “biblical marriage.” That and King Solomon’s racy domestic arrangements.
Anyhow, having joined with others in praying for the best for the nation, I am waiting to see whether the Congress can get itself out of the prodigious hole it lately dug for itself.
But I’m not idle. I’ve started a load of laundry. Whatever the Congress does or does not do, I’ll need clean shirts for the coming week. And I’m boiling potatoes in preparation for making my mother’s summer salad. There may be grilling too, even though it is still hotter than the hinges of Hell in Baltimore. But Kathleen, I see, has come home with a couple of eggplants, and grilling them for caponata sounds like a good bet.
Earlier I tweeted that Twitter has invited me to follow myself, saying that I’m not that desperate, and a follower promptly retweeted, “But you’re interesting.”
One tries to keep the mico-realities separate from the macro-realities. If in their ineptitude our elected representatives should garrote our faltering recovery, it will still be necessary to wash the clothes, prepare the meals, and clean up afterward. That is not to say it’s time to be sanguine. I’ve already lost a job once, and those of us who have been through the experience and managed somehow to clamber back on board realize just how precarious the perches are these days.
But for today, the Republic has not yet collapsed. August starts tomorrow and perhaps the heat will begin to relent. Alice is bringing an old college classmate to dinner, and we’ll open a bottle of plonk and and talk around the table and tuck into that salad through which I keep both my body and the memory of my mother alive.
And there are you, you hardy band of readers who, for reasons I’m not about to question, find me interesting. Slainte.