This year's Republican race for the Presidency kept reminding me of a story I read years ago.  Yesterday I got a book in the mail, a collection of humor, and there it was "The Greatest Man in the World' by James Thurber.  It's a story about a surly bully named Jack Smurch that managed to fly a monoplane around the world without a stop, tanks of fuel attached to the sides of the plane, and a gallon of bootleg and six pounds of salami.  The world watches his progress, and he becomes more and more of a hero, finally landing safely.  Meantime, the reporters and government have been researching his past, and it is a terrible one, he stole from church, knifed his principal, long history of arrests.  And when he meets the press, it gets even worse.  He insults Lindberg, calls the French men who died in their plane "frogs" and wants money for his success. Every sentence is full of swearing.

The government tries to hide him away, but the people adore him, and finally they have a conference with the governor of New York, the Senators, and even the President.  It's in a hot room, and Smurch opens the window.  Bad mouthing everyone, and demanding lots of money and women, the President gives a nod and the Secretary of State pushes him out the ninth floor window. His funeral is extravagant and attended by thousands, but not his mother, who is smirking, in his same style, as she fries hamburgers in a run down joint. 

Now this is all written in the Thurber manner, amusing and witty, but certain similarities do appear.  Whenever our Smurch talks, I shiver, and an embarrassment comes over me - embarrassed for our country, for the people who are cheering him on, for me.  Even the name is kind of familiar.  Well let's see what happens.

February 3 is St. Blaise Day and this Sunday our throats were blessed in his honor. "May God at the intercession of St. Blaise preserve you from throat troubles and every other illness".  The original saying was every other evil but I suppose that is too broad a subject for today.

We knew all bout St. Blaise - Bucky told us.  He saved a boy's life that had a fishbone caught in his throat.  She told us this because Daddy was a fisherman and we often had to eat whatever fish he brought home.  Poppy too fished, so there was fish at Grandma's as well.  And there often were bones that we had to pick out.  Thus the story.  Bucky had another solution.  "Chew a piece of bread and that will get rid of the bone,"  To this day, I only buy filleted fish, no bones for me.

An interesting part of the blessing, is that two candles are crossed and thrust around your neck while the priests says the words.  The first time I took the kids to St. Blaise's Day, I said to them that I had had enough sore throats (Maria used to take a note every day to school - "Please allow Maria to chew asperin gum - she has a sore throat.").  And so I thought a blessing might help.  I explained to them that the priest would put two candles around their throat while giving the blessing.  Paul looked worried and asked "Are they lit?"  I remembered that yesterday.  It would be more dramatic if they WERE lit.     

I've been praising P. G. Wodehouse for months now.  We've been listening to his stories on audio books and for Christmas I bought Tim the television series Jeeves and Wooster.  The same stories, but visually quite different.  On audio, you never see what a bonus it is to have a butler, especially one as meticulous as Jeeves.

Jeeves brings Bertie his morning tea on a tray right to his bedside.  Jeeves makes a cocktail for the morning after a rough night that straightens you out in minutes.  Jeeves irons the clothes and lays them out on a pillow for Bertie's daily wear.  Jeeves draws the bath, putting salts in, placing the towel near by, so Bertie never has to even take a towel out of a closet.  Jeeves answers the phone, and will cover for Bertie if Bertie doesn't want to talk.  The same with the door, if an unwanted visitor, Jeeves makes an excuse for him.  In short, he is like a doting parent, but acts and is treated as an equal with Bertie.  And all the stories have Bertie getting into trouble, either with the law or a female (he has been engaged many, many times - often to the same woman) and Jeeves devises a plan to rescue him. 

So, I am wondering if there is still in this day and age, someone like Jeeves, a butler, but more than a servant, who you can hire.  I will have to look on the internet.  If I ever win the lottery, I will hire one.

On another note, Hugh Laurie plays Bertie Wooster, and his eyes popping out, jaw dropping antics are nothing like the character in  house, M.D. which I am now watching too.  Timmy looked up Hugh Laurie and it said he had been in a deep depression and it was the Jeeves' books that brought him out of it.  I can believe that.  I dare you not to laugh at them. 

Winter is finally here - single digits on the thermometer, windows all iced in the mornings.  This is when I most appreciate the feather bed comforter given to me on Christmas by Paul and Helene several years ago.  It is a pleasant weight on the body, and holds the heat under the other two covers, making for a warm nest.  It makes me think of the squirrel nests that I can see so clearly now the trees are bare.  We have a big one in the back yard, mostly made of oak leaves, which do not deteriorate very easily. 

The squirrel's nest is called a dray and can be as large as two feet wide and a foot high.  In cold weather, like this, they share the nest.  January is also the mating month for squirrels - that's why you see them acting crazy in the roads.  (I use to think they were so cold it made them suicidal, but now I realize it is something else.)  On the internet they had a drawing of two squirrels sleeping in their cocoon like nest. This is how I feel.

Years ago my sister Diane gave me a "Bucky ( that's what we called our mother).  Anyway Bucky is filled with buckwheat, and you stick it in the microwave for two minutes and it is toasty warm.  That goes on my feet.  In only minutes, the featherbed has done its job and the bed is warm.   The warm bed, the fundador and the one or two pieces of candy, and you can't ask for anything more.  Nighty night, as Aunt Lillian used to say.

End of the year wind up - what were my favorite memories of this year.  Lots to chose from, but here goes:

March - Ria's 7th anniversary, cold day, and it's only the Bagges and myself.  But Solomon sets up his music for his trumpet.  Below us two young men are hanging out by their friend's grave, drinking beers and smoking.  Solomon started off with the Theme from Rocky and ended with the Star Wars theme.  What a sound in the graveyard, Gabriel waking up the dead!  The two guys joined us in applause and because it was so cold, we left soon after. 

May - little baby boy Cove arrives and Miles tells us that he heard a voice in his bathroom, say "What the hell are you waiting for?  Get her to the hospital"  We all knew who he meant.

June - Vivian has her first birthday, born a preemie, now she is the perfect size and has eyes and a face that makes you smile.

July - Wellfleet vacation, I enjoyed laying in my bed at night listening to the Bagges play Family Feud, laughing all the time.  Then the next week with the Kelly's, Jer cooking oysters and a Kelly family picture in the water at Power's Landing.

August - back to Wellfleet this time with my sisters.  Laying in bed with Maureen, drinking the fundador and laughing.  Diane remarked "sounds like a pajama party in there'.  Then the day the toilet started to make a noise like a hot water heater exploding, loud and constant.  Diane called the maintenance man, no answer, and I finally had the nerve to take off the toilet back and pull the plunger up. The noise stopped.  Apparently, it was set up to make that noise if the toilet was running too long.

September - Sabra sees the Pope and brings me back a shirt with I Love Pope Francis that I wear to the Haley clambake and the shirt is a big hit.

October - third trip to Wellfleet, seeing my old friend Caleb in the Library and watching the drones taking pictures of the event.  Listening to Jeeves and Bertie Wooster on audio book.

November - Timmy's race - he comes in second in his age group and craves the first prize award, a mug like he received 15 years ago.  After their picture is taken, the winner Bill D hands it to him, saying "this is your lucky day".

The year went fast, as they all do now.  Happy New Year


  

13 days and counting - I think I'm almost done.  48 years ago when we had our first Christmas in Tivoli, my friend, my only friend in our new location, was Jane O, and she asked me if I wanted to exchange stocking with her at Christmas.  I never did stockings before, the Murphy's didn't do that, but I said sure, and bought a red stocking at the grocery store and filled it with little things, a comb, some candy, a cheap toy.  Well, Jane handed me a homemade stocking, shaped like an old fashioned high buttoned shoe, with fake pearls and lace on the outside.  Inside were all treasures, individually wrapped, sewing needles, a pincushion, homemade candies, each wrapped with different paper, even jingle bells on some.  Boy was I embarrassed.  But the next year, I redeemed myself, copying her lead, and ever since then I have given my kids stockings,  and these stockings are the most fun to fill. 

I use to use stockings and then as they overfilled, I used boxes, now I just buy Christmas shopping bags and fill them.  I buy stuff all year, filling a box in my bedroom and then figure out who gets what.  The girls all get fancy underwear, Maria used to get black underwear like Bucky liked, and Paul gets silly men's underwear with a Christmas theme.  I really like the pair I bought for him this year.  Little things, big things, I wrap most of them, a la Jane, and I usually go over to Sabra's to watch her open her stocking.  By then, I will have forgotten most of what I filled it with, so it's as much a surprise for me.  13 days and counting.  

The Christmas lights are on the front trellis, and I see their reflection on the ceiling of my bedroom after I shut the light off.  Trying a new audio for a break from the Woosters, I rented Neil Gaiman's short stories "Trigger Warning" and the title should have tipped me off.  Trigger Warning - short fictions and disturbances.  They are disturbing and after hearing them, watching the lights flicker on the ceiling is calming. 

On the night of March 17, 2008 I was lying in bed.  What a day the whole experience had been, I kept playing if over and over in my head, trying to make sense of it.  Then I yelled down to Timmy "Put on the Christmas lights" and he didn't even question my request, just went on the porch and plugged in the lights on the trellis which had never been taken down after Christmas.  Those light lit up the ceiling and I thought that now Maria could see us.  It made me feel closer to her and that was just what I needed. 

Winter is a dark and like Neil's stories, as the cover puts it, waits for us in the dark corridors of our lives.  Let there be light.