The Lad and I are still trying to find a good solution to my problem of phonelessness; until that happens I must maintain radio silence and I spend my days with la Nin in kind of a dream state.
Anais, I say, what do you think of all this?
I have raged at the wall growing denser between myself and others. I do not want to be exiled, alone, cut off.
It’s not so bad, I tell her.
We need adventures, she says.
We need clean laundry, I say.
I rile at the human condition, which means domestic life, chores…
Well, tomorrow we can go lie in the sun all day, I tell her. We are dogsitting Molly this weekend.
What new loveliness is there in Molly, she wants to know.
I say, The loveliness is not so much in the dog, although she is lovable. The loveliness is the sun on our skin, the fresh fruit and coffee by the pool.
I enjoy breakfast, she admits.
In the meantime, you and I must wait in the house for the cable man, I tell her, and do the dishes and the laundry, tidy up the clutter, and have a day of housewifery.
I never minded the monotony of housework, she says, as long as my life has its lyrical climaxes, its high moments, the certainty of full living.
Two months in Europe seems fairly lyrical, I say, so let’s throw the whites in the wash and scrub the rice out of the pots.