A Learned Ability

A Learned Ability-1Oh Mercy!   This cold snap we’re having isn’t fit for man or beast.  Looks like we’re going to be enduring even lower temps until next weekend is over.  I’ve always feared someone getting stranded or heating plants going out when it’s this cold.  Even our dog owners have to force their pets outside so they can do their duties several times a day.

I ran into a young gentleman at convenience store today whom I’ve known for several years.  He had his five year old daughter with him for Christmas week.  I noticed he had a cold and said, “Didn’t you have a cold the last time I ran into you about a month ago?”  He went on to say it’s really not a cold but only my on-going congestion.  Of course I wouldn’t leave it alone by saying, “Do you have pets?”  He acknowledged having an inside dog and cat.  I then asked if he could possibly be allergic to cats.  I couldn’t believe he said he and still owns a cat. The support for his argument was, “I make sure to close my bedroom door so my cat can’t get in while I’m sleeping.”  After such a weak justification, I dropped the subject.  I should have left when I had a chance before seeing what he was buying his five year old daughter to drink.  I think we’re seeing all the more children being raised by children.  It makes me sad.

Since this Christmas was another fly-over for me, I spent most of my day keeping busied with menial tasks.  One of them was finishing up with my cleaning of a unit which will be filled come January 1st.  The previous tenant was a younger male who demonstrated to me these past several days how weak at best his cleaning abilities were. What were those parents doing so wrong when rearing their now grown adults?  It’s no wonder there are so many getting sick.

While cleaning the walls and floor around the bathroom water closet, I was reminded of visits I had at my home some years ago by several older people, and one of them being a male non-blood relative.  It didn’t take but a singular time when discovering after they left how that male had sprayed urine on the wall and floor around my toilet.  Urgh!  From that point on, every time he’d use my facilities, I’d un-noticeably go back in and clean up his mess.  If he’d not been such a crotchety “old bull”, I would’ve kindly and soulfully encouraged him to sit instead of stand.

The United States is really weird about men always standing.  In Europe, it’s almost a given that if you’re a male using someone else’s WC, it’s best to sit instead of stand because it’s unforgivably rude to “miss” the bowl in someone else’s home.  There really needs to be more education going on with aging men who’ve lost their “aim”.  There’s absolutely no shame in taking a seat instead of standing.  Believe me, there’d be a whole lot more cleaner walls and floors around our toilets in America.

I’m hoping you’ve all been enjoying your guests with little or no stress.  I’m sure there’ve been handsome table settings, succulent dishes, and good conversations.  Just to keep a bit in the spirit of the Season, I broke down and baked a few goodies to share with some kind folks.  Never thinking those “bakes” were that good, I’ve had two of them send notes asking for my recipes.  I guess that’s about as good a compliment as one could could get.  Early tomorrow morning I’ll do some copying and send them off.  One of my recipients was almost embarrassed to ask for fear I’d tell her no.  If someone would accuse me of being a good baker, I’d have to say, “It was a learned trade from my mother, so you can thank her.”  She was a master who learned from a master who learned from a master, and so on back likely ten or fifteen generations. In one strand of my Morphic resonating make-up, there’s always that “good food” stamp.

I’ll never forget the time I’d decided to take a Sunday off during weather like this a number of years ago and do a little long over-due baking.  Since I’d prepared myself for that Sunday the day before, I had a memorable time that sunny, yet very cold Sunday.  Always remember, a baker is always their own worst critic when I say, “I thought I did an average job with those three or four baking projects.”  Late that evening, I discovered way too much of everything that I’d never be able to eat, so I created a “care package” for my mother which I would deliver to her home the next morning.

If anyone would’ve know my “dearest” mother, they would’ve come to the conclusion in a very short time her possession of zero filters.  The next morning I arrived at her home and placed my bigger than big plate of goodies on the kitchen table before her.  She said, “What’s this?”  “Take a taste.”, I answered.  With wide and questioning bright blue eyes she sampled each and then looked up and snapped, “Well! I see you still know how to bake.” I smiled down at her and said, “Just remember, it was my learned ability from the master.”

Stay warm and make yourselves comfy and cozy on this exceptionally cold Christmas night.