Friday, February 20, 2015
busted furnace and a birthday
The former is to some extent my own damned fault for not being more attentive to the boiler's water supply/needs, but fault at the moment is not first on the agenda: Getting it fixed is. So there are a couple of calls out to plumbers whose answering machines are on the job at 6:30 in the morning. Hurry up and wait.
My son's birthday is somehow a marvel, which is another way of saying I am strangely or not so strangely inattentive. How did he get to be that old? What happened during all those years that preceded this birthday marker? What does he know that I don't ... and vice-versa? He is flesh of my flesh and somehow I am unable to get a handle on my flesh. Calling it a "blessing" or a "marvel" irritates me because it explains none of what I want -- foolishly or not -- explained. I would rather be confused than lied to and there is something confusing in the air.