“Things are not as easily understood nor as expressible as people usually would like us to believe. Most happenings are beyond expression; they exist where a word has never intruded.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
You see, when I went out early this morning to speak with landlady Gold and her maintenance man, Tom -- to let them know I had a few hours of writing, before I could take on the next project -- I found them exiting Vincent's FINALLY-vacated apartment. And I didn't get out a sentence when they exclaimed, "Oh, you don't have to work every day!!!".
And then Gold pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of her purple purse, and handed it to me saying, well have some cash to spend (I now wonder if she thinks I actually have to work)!!! But I think she just wanted me to know she appreciated my jumping in to help out. They THEN threatened me with a Claxton Fruit Cake (like they have an intention to give me one)!!!
Now, I'm not dissing Claxton, it's just that beginning in the mid 1970's when I lived in Cape May, I took my Mom's recipe which was HER mother, Gertrude Hesselbrock's:
Gertrude Hesselbrock age 5 in 1900, Cincinnati, Ohio
I still have this triptych of photos -- now properly matted and framed and hanging in my living room.
It was a very dark, German fruitcake, the darkness from almost more dates than flour -- and they both wrapped their cakes in cheesecloth, dowsed them with a libation of fine Kentucky Bourbon, and stored them dark and air-tight for a couple of months.
But in the anti-processed mid-1970's, I replaced all the candied fruit with chopped dried apricots -- so just that plus nuts, dates, and Bourbon.
Those many cakes each year were the MOST APPRECIATED presents I ever gave.
I'll just submit to what is certainly meant in the best way. To see what happened when Tennessee William's assistant who preceded me burnt a meatloaf -- and served it anyway, leading (with other events), to my working for the playwright:
WARNING: the story also includes a gun, drugs, and that assistant's boyfriend (and this is nowhere mentioned in the book -- and only once in this blog, years ago), but he was from Wilmington, North Carolina -- the son of the owners of the LONG FAMOUS Flip's Barbecue, now gone.
You could read this: http://laterdaysoftennesseewilliams.blogspot.com/2013/10/chapter-2-employment.html
>>> IN ANY CASE: What Gold and Tom want me to do next is rake Gold's yard, which is larger than the area I've raked so far (which is now 1/3 the way to needing a re-raking!!!), and the parking lot behind First Presbyterian's Boney Hall (which has a half-hidden plaque showing it to be a gift of the Kenan Family), that lies under Gold's giant Magnolia tree -- because they never do (although they keep the rest of their property immaculate).
She just feels it's right that I do that first (regardless their housing trashy criminals in the house between hers and Boney Hall -- lowering property values for everyone in the neighborhood, no less!!!). And to think that just over four years ago, I was the volunteer groundskeeper for the Biblical Herb Garden, from which I have TWICE, recently, stolen a wand of rosemary (but always judiciously).
So I guess I'll be carin' for their property a smidge, again -- COOL!!!
>>> Meanwhile, Our Nation's Popular Presbyterian just AGAIN went up in the POLLS!!!
Scott
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