21 April 2005
One of my favorite movies, growing up, was Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, with Deborah Kerr and Robert Mitchum. The two were trapped on an island together during a Japanese invasion--I can't remember exactly how the two of them happened to be there. I think Mitchum is shipwrecked there and Kerr was left behind from the hospital when the priest who was running it dies. Or something like that.
Anyway, at one point the two of them have been hiding from the Japanese in a cave, have been without food, and are starving. Mitchum sneaks down to the beach at night and catches a fish. They eat it raw. He says that he thought all catholics are "mackerel snappers," or fish eaters. Kerr attempts to eat the raw fish and gets very sick and apologizes that she "isn't a very good mackerel snapper."
I don't know why I thought of that when I started to write this entry, except that the entry is sort of about sushi. We will be going out to eat sushi for dinner tonight (this is being written on the 20th).
In all the excitement about the new floor and all the confusion surrounding it, the 20th of April snuck up on me. It hit me when I was writing last night's entry and adding the entries from past years, especially this one, (which actually won a Diarist Net award).
I was able to shove the significance of today's date to the back of my mind as I stood here contemplating the new floor yesterday. But when the morning's news did a recap of the Columbine tragedy, of course, there was no escaping the fact: Paul has been dead 6 years today. And you know what that means -- sushi for dinner. (Contrary to Deborah Kerr, I am a good mackrel snapper.)
Paul loved sushi. When Walt was out of town, he and I would meet at what was then the only sushi restaurant in town for dinner. Sometimes when we had something to talk about, we'd meet there for lunch. After David died, we spent time there, eating spicy tuna, tears in our eyes that wasn't from the wasabi. We did a lot of bonding over raw fish.
After Paul and Audra married, he and I didn't get together as much, but the marriage only lasted 8 months before he died, so who knows if we would have slipped back into our old pattern eventually or not.
But somehow it seems right to have sushi on the anniversary of his death. (It's also a nice excuse to go out to dinner!) But I probably won't have mackerel.
Sheila returned home this afternoon and it was the funniest thing to watch. Ashley and I stood at the front door talking about what a good time Sheila had while she was on her "homestay," and while we talked, Sheila went looking for Kimba. I went to see how she was handling the slick new floor and found her literally creeping across the floor, her belly almost touching the ground, her feet slipping with each step.
By the time Ashley had left, Sheila had learned how to walk on the wood, though she did lie down inside the front door, which, I assume, was easier than standing there.
We intend to get an area rug for the family room, but I don't want to make that decision until we have the furniture in and I can get an idea about the size I want to get.
But I dunno. With all the difficulty the dogs are having just walking across the floor, maybe if we leave it bare it will cut down on the racing around here chasing each other at night. That could be an unexpected plus of this new floor.
I'm getting all sorts of "care and feeding of Pergo" help from friends who have it and who have learned all the tricks of the trade. And I've started moving furniture back in. The dining room table came in last night and today I moved in the first end table. We won't do a major furniture move until Ned is free to help with the heavy stuff. Last thing I need is to slip and drop the television.
I know you're sick and tired of hearing about this floor, but I decided to post all the pix in one "set" on Flickr, should there be someone so masochistic as to want to see even more, or to see them full size.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
When he was good, he was very good...