Big local news!

It's not raining. (Uh oh. Clouds are forming even as I write. The little ray of sunshine is official blocked.)


* * * *

And what is it about older people who take pride in their clothing? I remember that from Ann Tyler's The Clock Winder--instant tear welling. It must be some sort of archetype.

When I was a kid, my mother collected people who had been abandoned. I don't know where she found them--I think some of them must have been from my aunt's half-way house. Ma had one guy, Stanley was his name, maybe? He dressed in a suit, every day. No matter what the heat, Stanley wore a suit. He didn't go in for personal hygiene though. When I was a kid, I dreaded his stinky visits. Now when I think about him, I feel tremendous guilt and the instant tear-welling.

I know if he showed up at my door, I'd let him in and give him tea (the local version, Mr. Chadour did just that) but I bet I wouldn't invite him to Thanksgiving, the way my mother did.

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