Sunday, April 12, 2015

Clam Happy

And I repeat, how do we know that a clam is ever happy?  This morning, at the “fitness center,” (when did it stop being a gym?), it occurred to me that I was happy as a clam.  This led me to other thoughts, as often happens when you are as wise as I.  Like, is a steamed clam as happy as one in a garlic sauce? Or, does it hurt when it gets opened? Or what happened to the clam that never opened?  That took me to cremation. (Don't ask). When we were writing our Last Will and Testaments, it was determined that we wanted to be cremated.  I thought it would be fun to be cremated like a cholent with onions, potatoes, and steak seasoning.  Then my ashes would be put in film cans and distributed to anyone who wanted to remember me, and they could decide what to do with the well seasoned ashes. 

Back to the clam dilemna  later…..  For whatever reason,  I remembered a story I wrote many years before on “We’re just sayin…”.  It was about a dilemna  we had when Jordan was in preschool.  Montessori was the route most well informed, right thinking people took as an initial step in their child’s education.  When Jordan came home at the end of each day and we asked her how she spent her time in school, she showed us how she learned dexterity with circular motions in the table, walls, chairs, counters… Everywhere.  And it was absolutely clear to me that we were raising a generation of cleaning ladies and men.

Next it was, like most days a trip down memory lane, when all the late friends and family (they’re not late, they’re not coming), touch my heart in different ways. Mostly, it would be great to talk to them and that cannot happen.  Too morbid, back to politics.

Marty is in Iowa and New Hampshire deciding if he should run for President.  (If you don’t know which Marty, skip this sentence). While Hillary is rolling out her campaign by announcing  on social media.  Most media people think it's to avoid questions from the media.  Maybe, but it is possible that she is just cool and wants the world to know she is technically savvy.  And really, who but the media care.  If you can name 20 people….. Never mind.  The most interesting thing about the campaign is also the most volatile—Bill.  Apparently he has to have his own campaign so he stays out of her campaign.  They think that he needs to be controlled.  Good luck with that.

How did I get here?  Oh yes, the clam. Or was it dilemmas?  Salt Lake City is a beautiful place, where it is possible to get clams. But it is also possible to get an elk or bison burger, which is my preference.  We know that SLC is not going to support Marty or Hillary.  So beautiful as it is, it would not be my choice for a residence. Although there are people here who might want to spread my ashes – dead or alive. 

In conclusion, our dear friend Michael Harding should never be anywhere where he might encounter latex.  Feel better soon dear friend and we hope the swelling goes away soon. We’re just sayin’… Iris

1 comment:

m_harding said...

I for one cant wait to get my hands on your ash. (gosh that sound rude)Yes, it will be bittersweet, but, when it does happen, I can think of a million things I can use your "life bark" (I just made up that term)for. Perhaps even a healing balm for my latex problems, a Salmon Rub, or a candle for the cottage when the scent of a special friend burning adds that little bit of romance to a summers eve. Be well. P.S>Hillary is going all the way, I can feel it. m_harding