April 5: This Ain't Bad, Difficult Day, Really Special Hot Chocolate

Billy Pilgrim's train, the longest train of all, did not move for two days.

"This ain't bad," the hobo told Billy on the second day.  "This ain't nothing at all."

Billy looked out through the ventilator.  The railroad yard was a desert now, except for a hospital train marked with red crosses--on a siding far, far away.  Its locomotive whistled.  The locomotive of Billy Pilgrim's train whistled back.  They were saying, "Hello."

My favorite character is this little passage is the hobo.  I appreciate his attitude.  Sitting in a boxcar, waiting to be hauled off to some prisoner of war camp, the hobo doesn't get pissed or depressed or bereft.  Nope.  The hobo just sits there, like he's eating a cheese sandwich at a lunch counter with Billy.  Basically, he's saying, "Well, it ain't prime rib, but it's filling."

It has been a difficult day.  My best friend, Wonder Twin, has taken another job.  I won't be working with her anymore.  We had a going-away potluck for her this afternoon.  Swedish meatballs.  Fruit pizza.  Crescent weenies.  Cake.  It was really good.  It was also really sad.  I've worked with my friend for almost twenty years.  She was also best friends with my sister who died.  When Wonder Twin walks out the door tomorrow after work for the last time, a part of my sister will be walking out the door with her, too.

I know that doesn't make a whole lot of sense.  But the fact that Wonder Twin knew my sister really well--loved my sister--was always really comforting to me.  I could share memories of my sister, quote her, and Wonder Twin immediately got it.  There's very few people who know almost everything about me.  Wonder Twin is one of those people.

I do not endorse drinking as a coping mechanism for anything.  However, I am probably going to have a really special hot chocolate tonight.  Maybe two.  It won't change the fact that Wonder Twin is cleaning out her locker at work tomorrow, or that I am probably going to cry.  Yes, I am going to be a mess.  But I will be happy tonight.

For 20 great years, Saint Marty got to work with his best friend.  For that, he is very thankful.

December 29: Thanks His Host, Book Club Christmas Party, Crescent Weenies

What book should I use next year on the blog?  Take the poll:

Book Poll 


I think that they drying pray at the last not "please," but "thank you," as a guest thanks his host at the door . . .

I chose this quote because it sort of reflects my entire day, which has been consumed by two things:  funeral plans and book club plans.

This evening, I hosted my book club's Christmas party.  Agatha Christie.  Chili.  A cheese fountain with warm, soft pretzels.  Lemon bars and fruit tarts, among other goodies.  Plus, we had a Secret Santa exchange.  I got a book of poems by Tracy K. Smith (Life on Mars) and an Adele CD (21).  It was a good night, full of good will.

Tomorrow will be all about the funeral service for my wife's grandmother.  I will be playing the music on the pipe organ.  Nothing difficult--"How Great Thou Art" and "In the Garden."  Two of her grandma's favorite hymns.  Just finished cooking some crescent weenies for the lunch after the service. 

It's been a busy day.  I'm pretty beat, and there's not a while lot of relaxation in store for me this weekend.  Three church services, including the funeral.  New Year's Eve.  New Year's day.  Right now, I keep falling asleep with my fingers on the keyboard.  I just typed "bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbblllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll."

Translation:  it's time for Saint Marty to go to bed.

Please vote for Saint Marty (Martin Achatz):

Vote for next Poet Laureate of the U. P.

December 28: Book to Finish, Charts to Complete, Pies to Make

I have a few things to do today. 

First, I need to finish reading the book for my book club meeting tomorrow night.  We're reading Dave Barry's The Shepherd, the Angel, and Walter the Christmas Miracle Dog.  It's a quick reading book, and I'm about half-way through it.  Generally, I'm not one for stories about animals.  I'm probably the only person I know who hasn't read Marley and Me.  Just can't get into tales about adorable animals who save people's lives and then die.  Not my cup of tea.  I didn't even like watching the Benji movies when I was a kid.  When I read a book or watch a movie, I want human drama, not trained creatures doing tricks.  Don't send me any angry messages.  I'm not Saint Francis of Assisi.

At work, I have a ton of charts to complete.  That means looking up a lot of missing reports and printing them out.  I just learned how to do this last week.  It was not a fun process.  My dearly departed coworker (no, she didn't die; she moved to another job) could complete this task in a matter of minutes.  It took me a few hours to figure out what I was doing wrong the first time.  Now, I have to go back and try again.  I sure hope it doesn't take me quite so long.

Then, tonight, I have to make a couple of egg nog pies and some crescent weenies.  If you haven't noticed, crescent weenies are a staple at potlucks/dinners I host.  The pies are something new.  I've never made one before, and I'm not really following a recipe.  I'm following the advice of another coworker who makes a lot of pies.  I think they will turn out alright.  If they don't, there will be plenty of other dishes at book club for people to fill up on.  This meeting is our holiday gathering.  Usually, the food is just a little bit better.  We usually eat well at book club, but at Christmas, we feast.

Yes, I did pick out a pair of glasses yesterday.  They are quite stylish.  I will post a picture of myself wearing them when they come in.  Think Buddy Holly and George Clooney mixed together.  That's what I'll look like.

Well, Saint Marty needs to get reading and working.  The baking comes tonight.

P.S.  Don't forget to enter the 500th Post Name My iPad Contest.