Sunday, November 8, 2009. The Marys Come Home Furious.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris November 08, 2009 06:33 in

Dining Diary

Sunday, November 8, 2009. The Marys Come Home Furious. I awakened to a blue sky, and spent most of the morning writing while I let the sun burn away the dew on the grass. Around noon, the clouds from Hurricane Ida (it's a Category Two this morning) began to cover the sky and make the wind blow. If I'm going to cut the grass, I'd better get with it.

The tractor's battery, even after charging all night, couldn't start the engine. I pushed the machine a hundred feet to the carport, where I jumped it from my car's battery. That did it. Two hours later, as the skies clouded over densely, I finished cutting all the essential expanses. I had to move slowly through a lot of it, so high and thick was this two-month, well-watered growth. Thus endeth the grass-cutting season of 2009.

The Marys arrived home from Washington as it was getting dark. Mary Ann left in a warm, apologetic mood, but she didn't come home that way. She was furious with me about something, and Mary Leigh was clearly on her side. It took an hour for the issue to come out. "I want to see your cellphone," she demanded. I told her she could look at it as hard as she liked, but getting it to work was another matter. I had still not located a new battery. But what's the big deal?

"We left text after text, and messages, and heard nothing back. Mary Leigh was scared. We were wondering if you were still alive." Why didn't they call me on the house phone? How about at the radio station? Or how about an e-mail? I asked. This was to no avail. Somehow, I had slipped out of their universe, and whatever the explanation, it was my fault. But they left me behind, not the other way around. Maybe they're--no. I won't go down that road.

I was shunned for the remainder of the evening. I thought they might want to go out to dinner at the Acme, where we go upon the return of any family member who has been on the road. No takers. And I was hungry, too, my menu for the day having been a ham sandwich. I crawled into my cave and let things decompress. Darn! And it was too late for them to see how I cut the grass to welcome them home!