Saturday, February 12, 2005

The Pleasures of the Porch

With two kids newly in college, there is a novel silence in my kitchen, and much cherished, thank you. It is now just a battle of wits between my fridge of high pressure, and myself, an unarmed man.

It is disquieting to be sitting in quieter contemplation with my expansion kits, and then suddenly have to endure the flatulence of some asinine motor driving my refrigerator compressor and me insane. Roaring across the floor at me.

What to do? I consult my advanced Zen sensibilities, and calmly decide that I can merely move the bottom half of the (next) fridge into the basement. When I get rich. I expect that there are inaudible antique cabinets which can conceal the cornucopiae of the supermarket, but not for me.

I flash on a better, even more Zen-ish brillig. The fridge can be moved around the corner into the laundry room, away from my outraged provenance. This might also help out my proto-obesity problem. It would have to wait until someone came over to help.

Instead, I rely on a tactic I developed in Coon Bay, at my squatter’s cabin there - early seventies. A 16X16 cabin can be quite intimate and noisy, when folks are over, and I evolved the tactic of stepping outside now and then, onto my little porch. Here the island skies were ablaze with God’s glories, his gentle breezes refreshed me, and I would feel positively Nirvanian.

This in turn brought on a ritual prompted by our dark winter evenings, and the dripping, rinsing rains. In the stillness of that wet world, here was the steamy pleasure of peeing off the porch.

One must careful not to water shrubs, as my wife has pointed out to me entire areas where even moss won’t grow. No matter, this a delicity of this umbral season, when the heavens carry away our sins.

It is getting harder to disguise my ablutions, as common smokers of the hard stuff now habitually blunder out the door. They soon recognize the ploy, and inevitably take matters into their own hands. Most women accept my apologies.

I must return to my seat again at the castle mount, and pump up for the next time.


Post a Comment

<< Home