In November my maternal grandmother succumbed to a sudden illness and died. It was expected. She was old and in poor health. A couple years ago she took a tumble down the stairs - and though she didn't break anything, she lost a lot of blood and developed further issues with her heart. After her son, my uncle, died in January, we've been expecting her to go.
The death was especially hard on my mother and her sisters. It has been a rough year for the family, a rough week even as my cousin's estranged daughter also passed on the same day. This is the only time I recall that I've ever seen my mother seven sheets to the wind, as she and one of my favorite aunts took comfort in each other's company and with the help of a couple bottles of wine.
She was buried on what would have been her 82nd birthday.
So I was called to be a pall-bearer again. And again experience the Lutheran Funeral Rites. I must say, I appreciate the Lutheran Funeral. There is crying, but most of the ceremony is about remembering the good things, as well as the message of hope. I don't agree with that last, but hope beats despair and joy is preferred to sorrow.
The aftermath of which was that we finished clearing out her house, a job that was only begun after my uncle's funeral. And when I say 'we' I mean my relatives. I had to return to work. Alas! I regret this as I would have liked to get a photo of the afore mentioned porn collection. I wanted to see how high it would stack and document this great personal achievement of my uncle's.
The natural result of the cleaning is that once again everyone picks through and claims the nicknacks and what-not that used to be part of our relative's everyday life. Some for sentimental value, and the rest for practical purposes. (My cousin sprinted off with a Jesus clock).
I came away with this magnificent piece of art:
*Eagles and Wolves are natural enemies*
Can you see that? Majestic! The artists really captured the truest spirit of Nature herself. Oh what to do with this fine thing?
Earlier I learned that a good friend is set to inherit his father's firearms collection. His father being a Yooper, who himself has inherited several other collections, is leaving behind a sizable legacy for his son. I've not actually seen it, but I like to picture it being locked in a basement rec room armory the likes of which what would drive Bert Gummer into a state of orgasmic bliss and sticky trousers.
This being said, as far as I am concerned the grand prize is the hand-made muzzle loader that his father built.My reaction is entirely to the concept. His dad built a gun. So, I am enthusiastic for this idea. This is a fantastic combination of MacGyver and Yooper, down to the death grip on the mullet. Plus, my friend and his father are a fraction Native American!
What does this matter? Well a few years back I gave said friend the starter set of a Post Apocalyptic survival kit, and have been adding to it since. This year I was going to run an experiment in protective armor, but I'm still contemplating the specifics(read this as procrastinating) of the build.
He was going to get a gun rack worthy of his Family's greatest and most impressive heirloom!
*May they cherish it forever!*
With fast broken on a bowl of cereal, we set out to our local big box hardware store. though I am not particularly handy, I love hardware stores. They are an alter to the realm of possibility. Under that roof is about tool or material any imaginative and skilled person will need to make their dreams a reality. For those of us who lack the skills necessary, the contents within take on a darker shade as they will only lead to sadness and humiliation as a large pile of wasted scrap(Or, maybe it just looks that way -Abstract Sculpture is hard to read).
We spent at least a half hour rambling across the concrete floors and through the steel canyons of the store. We were met along the way by bi-lingual signs and helpful employees. I must say, Walmart this was not. In the end, I found an approximation of what I thought that I would need. Plus a few things extra just in case.
I blame all of the previous collection of coincidences on what terrible events were about to unfold.
Supplies in hand, we moved onto the weekly grocery shopping. Even as the nutritional and fuel value of that lone bowl of raisin bran had long been exhausted. Just in time to wander around a vast storehouse of tempting manufactured foods!
Hey! You know that package of hotdogs that I would normally try to avoid eye contact with as I shamefully recalled past trysts? Come on baby! Get in that basket! You and daddy have a date!
As I don't make a list, I am usually forced to wander back and forth, zigg-zagging about as I try to recall everything I need to buy. This isn't all bad, I get out and get exercise. This isn't all good either, especially when I'm in a whimsical or absurd mood and happen to feel like sampling some new bizarre find that I come across. So I wandered up and down and up and down, until my eyes landed on the Holy Grail! Bright pink she was, unnatural one might say.
Balderdash and poppycock!
*I call this self-hate in a cup!*
$.89 or a package of 4? Doesn't need to be refrigerated? And a mixture of artificial banana and strawberry flavorings? Stop talking and sign me the fuck up!
Later at home I cracked open a cup. The pudding tastes like... Well you know that flavor that 'food' manufacturers, especially those in the line of making candy, have concocted. "This is Banana!" They declare, though it doesn't really taste like any banana ever grown that I've ever eaten. I know this, because I've had bananas. I ate one today. Neither the bouquet nor the taste match. Really, all it has in common with actual bananas is that both substances are comprised primarily of molecules and the dreams of children.
It works in the same way that red Koolaid is Cherry drink rather than Cherry Juice. It has the memory of cherry.
But still, the powder flavoring some how ends up in candy(now and laters) and drinks (Slurpees) and about everything else that is tinged yellow and packaged with an abstracted version of the fruit in question. Yeah, that flavor. The foundation of the long defunct Banana flavored Nesquik, which I assume has been dumped, and acquired on the cheap by the makers of this modern delicacy.... Wait, Banana flavored Nesquik still exists? I feel ill.
I do not know what the exact definition of pudding is. In England it generally takes the place of Dessert. Here in the States pudding is a sweet custard sort of food. I guess that in the way the food industry operates, those four cups of flavored slop can be labeled pudding. That's just how things seem to work.
I was offered home made pie today. I declined. I have pudding cups.
This is why I shan't survive the apocalypse.
No comments:
Post a Comment