Friday, December 4, 2009

boys in the kitchen

Ron sits on the floor near me. The catness of him is unnerving. He then wanders over to the long window which looks out onto the deck, jumps up to sit on the sill, long tail swishing.

There are three boys in the kitchen. Ray, Dylan and Alex. They were in the dining room eariler. Ray was talking to me about his college plans, what his counselor told him. His thoughts. "Have you talked to your dad about it?"..."Yeah..". "And what has he said?".."Dad wants me to be an engineer". And his dad's dad wanted him to be an engineer and on and on, ad infinitum.

What do boys talk about? Boy things and school things. "Didn't I see you over by Bethel Park?"...and "did you see?"..and "what is he doing?"..sketches and pieces of conversation. "Do you have the cadillac?" Dylan asks Ray. We have a cadillac catera, one of the ten worst cars ever built. I know this. My mechanic looked it up on the internet and told me. Nice. "No, it's over at dad's house."(Ray). "So you have the Yukon?"(Dyl). "Yeah."(R).."When are you going back over to dad's house."(D). "Now"(R). "Can I go with you?"(D)..the sound of the refrigerator door opening. "Oh my gosh, what is this? I love this stuff.." Ray has found the eggnog (non-alcoholic).."I can't stand that stuff, it makes me sick"(Alex). Some more conversation then "Make sure you close the door.." (me). "The car door?" and Ray smiles..Haha. "The front door and the door to the entryway"..We have an anteroom. It is cold out and the entryway anteroom is shut off from the remainder of the house, it connects to a mudroom which connects to the small office off the kitchen which leads to the living room and dining room and round and round. Lawrence, my brother's son is nearly three years old, has a broad smile and talks up a storm. The anteroom contains a piano and during family or friend gatherings we open the door from it (the anteroom) into the rest of the house. Lawrence likes to play the piano. At thanksgiving he walked through the kitchen, then the small office, and went through the door into the mudroom, I turned on the light for him, he looked back at me, his eyes large and exclaimed "Wow", walked a short distance then turned and looked again at me and said "wow" can you not love a kid like that? Then he went and "played" on the piano.
I love the kids. My youngest nieces and nephews, my great-nieces, my children (of course). There is nothing like picking up and holding a baby. Sweet, sweet, and I look forward to the days of having grand-children and talk with friends about this.

Now the boys have gone out. Richa made a quick meal in the kitchen then returned downstairs. Ron lays on my legs, warm. It is freezing outside. It would be nice to build a fire in the fireplace and curl up and stay home tonight. But it is a work night, the fourth in a row: eight then sixteen then twelve then twelve then twelve. How many hours is that this week? Sixty. And running. and training. and being too fat for any of this (too fat as a runner that is...)..
Talked on the phone for an hour with my mother this afternoon about this and that. She has advance directives now. Her surgery is the twenty-third. Rosie and I have been chosen to make end of life decisions, "pull the plug" as mom said and we laughed about it.

Then Jesus said, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear.." Mark 4:9

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