Domestic affairs

Thursday: I worked from home yesterday. The federal government was closed for the Bush 41 day of mourning. So I worked on my couch, with Bush's funeral as background noise.

It was interesting to watch the first row. Much has already been written about the cold reception that President Trump received from most of the the other members of the club, now down to five members. I guess it's no better than he should have expected, but I'd have liked to see the others take the high road and welcome him with open arms. The magnanimous gesture would have been lost on him, of course, but that's not the point. The Obamas were polite, at least.

Aside from the Trump vs. everyone dynamic, it's always interesting to see former and current Presidents and First Ladies and other high-ranking people at events such as these, stuck in the rare position of having to sit and wait for something that has nothing to do with them. Trump arrived just before the service was to begin, but even he had to sit and wait for ten minutes, without fidgeting, without looking at his phone, without anything to do but to sit and try to look solemn and serious. I actually felt sorry for him. But none of the others looked comfortable either, except for Jimmy Carter, who at 94 has reached the point at which he no longer cares what anyone thinks, and no longer has enough time to waste on grudges or politics. Carter sat reading the program, looking calmly around, and waiting patiently for the service to begin. He seemed quite at ease.

*****
Friday: It's been a very busy week. I had planned, after I finished my work for today, to watch the first episode of the second season of "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel." And then I found out that "84 Charing Cross Road" was on TV, and I had to stop what I was doing to watch it.

"84 Charing Cross Road" is based on the book of the same title, which I have never read. Helene Hanff was a freelance writer and publisher's reader who also loved books. During the years between 1949 and 1969, she wrote letters to the London bookshop that shipped books to her in New York. During those 20 years, she became close friends with the shop's staff. They exchanged letters and photos; and in the early years of their friendship, Helene sent them care packages of food and nylons and other luxuries that were extremely scarce in post-war England.

I love almost everything about this movie. It was made in 1987, a trash year for movies. Anne Bancroft stars as Helene Hanff, with Anthony Perkins as Frank Doel, the shop's manager. The costumes and sets are mid-century perfection; colors that are muted and bright all at once, and book-lined apartments, and beautiful wool coats and suits; and New York and London and the Queen. I wish people dressed like this still. I wish people acted like this still. I won't spoil the (sad but happy) ending. It would have helped me to know, in 1987, that such a beautiful and true friendship between a man and a woman was possible, and I wish I'd seen this movie then. But I'm glad I know about it now.

*****
Sunday: Yesterday, I refereed a high school swim meet in the morning, and then spent all afternoon Christmas shopping. Then I was just too tired to write anything; hence the skipped day.

I got home just as the light was fading. I love being home at that moment, no matter what time of day it occurs, but especially in the winter. I slept on the couch for a bit--only half an hour or so, but it was the kind of blackout sleep that feels like an entire winter night distilled and condensed into a few minutes. When I woke up, it was dark.

Then we went to a Christmas party. It's a Christmas party that we go to every year, where we see people whom we almost never see at any other time. And it's nice to see them, and after over 10 years, we joke that it's not Christmas until we see each other. It's the kind of party where the coats and handbags are piled on a bed, and the dining room table is spread with the same snacks and treats that the hosts serve every year, and the coolers of beer are on the deck, and people congregate in the kitchen and the partly finished basement where additional snacks and drinks await the guests who are in the know. It was a nice time. I'll see everyone next December.

*****
Monday: Well, the whole operation is a shambles right now. We're getting new carpet tomorrow, and you have to move stuff around to make room for the carpet layers. Because of the carpet installation, we're also a little later than usual with our Christmas tree. It's a mess, and I'll be breathing into a paper bag until this place is back in its customary order.

I have to work from home so that I can direct the proceedings. Fortunately, the room that I work in is not affected. I've never had carpet installed before, so I don't know what to expect other than a bunch of guys and some carpet and some furniture moving hither and yon. They're professionals, so I assume that they know what they're doing.

*****
I'm not going to have time to turn this into something readable, or to tie it together with any unifying theme. Last week, a state funeral was background noise for my workday; tomorrow, it will be carpet-laying sounds, assuming that carpet-laying has any distinctive sounds. I'll write again as soon as I have a clean house.