If I have a favorite household chore, The Virgin Mary will assure you that it’s definitely not cleaning out the kitty litter but maybe, just maybe it’s washing the dishes. And her hunch is a correct one backed by a year and a half of detergent-soaked proof. I seem to be always washing dishes and for awhile, my explanation was simply that it was the only chore I knew how to do effectively, but recently, I’ve realized that I do it more for the sense of cleansing satisfaction I get whenever I finish the job. It’s nice to be able to make something clean and pure again; in this world, you don’t get that opportunity very many times.
This weekend brought with it plenty of opportunities to wash dishes. CAT invited all of her friends to her family’s summer home for the weekend, and I graciously accepted the invitation. Considering the emotional repercussions of last fall’s Great Snoring Banishment of 2004 (see October 10, 2004 blog posting), I was hesitant to return to the Bradford, VT wood, but with lowered expectations, and less people in attendance, this weekend turned out to be more rewarding than the previous one spent there. And while I admit this partially had to do with the fact that I was not forced to share a room with The Paraguayan (the snorer, not a guy pretending to be gay), I believe that my improved spirits were more the result of a new friend that I made: The Righteous Babe (named as such for her startling resemblance [both physical- and personality-wise] to the original RB).
The Righteous Babe showed up late Saturday night after catching a bus from Boston and though I had only been at the house for half the day, her arrival was a much-needed antidote for the frustratingly annoying Ma Gorg (picture the traits of this Fraggle Rock character and Fraggle nemesis, and you know what I had to deal with this weekend). Ma Gorg has a dominant personality and because of this, she made a point of having her hands in every activity, food dish, and tangible part of the summer house, while making sure to rule every discussion, joke, and thought of the weekend. I learned very quickly Saturday that my favorite part of the house/property was always wherever there was the required space between myself and Ma Gorg to make her voice disappear. When The Righteous Babe arrived, I no longer needed that spatial filter because she brought with her a spiritual buffer to any and all stress (that may sound cheesy, but it’s the only way for me to describe it).
We set a place for The Righteous Babe at the dinner table and made enough food for the extra person, but because of commuting obstacles beyond her control, she arrived late and a few minutes after we had finished eating. Most of us remained at the table to keep her company while she ate her meal and it was quickly discovered that thanks to Ma Gorg’s generous second helping, there was nothing left of the main course for The Righteous Babe to eat. With a heartfelt appreciation for even having a plate set aside for her, The Righteous Babe devoured what was left of the salad and dessert.
The evening gave us the chance to play board games (CAT’s favorite past-time and the universal G-rated ice-breaker). While a few hours of games wasn’t remotely close to enough time to thaw the many layers of ice I had placed between Ma Gorg and myself, it did allow enough time for the green-house effect to take effect between me and The Righteous Babe. And for that, as is often the case, I can take no credit. And I doubt that The Righteous Babe would take credit either; she was simply doing, I believe, what came naturally to her (ie, she was being herself).
The rest of the weekend allowed for many opportunities to nap, read, write, play games, go for walks, enjoy the scenery, eat, sit in front of a fire, have great conversations, and all the other activities silently implied by the term “R & R.” And after nearly every meal, in an effort to chip in around the house, and while mentioning my inability to do any other chores (specifically cook), I washed the dishes. The weekend would have been perfect had it not been for the fact that Ma Gorg was part of nearly all of it. And then:
Monday morning, after an enormous breakfast I classified as in my list of “Top 25 Breakfasts of All Time” and after a satisfying weekend, which, because of Ma Gorg’s constant interference, was not completely satisfying, I found myself on Closure’s doorstep, washing dishes and standing beside The Righteous Babe, with a towel in her hands. We were alone in the kitchen and took the opportunity to talk about everything two strangers could possibly have time to talk about in 10 minutes, which is to say we didn’t talk nearly long enough. But what we did say was important, I hope, to both of us. While she gave me career (and on a subtextual level, life) advice, in an ironic conversational twist, I may have given her the advice for which she had not yet realized she was looking.
Regretfully, I finished washing the last dish and hesitantly, The Righteous Babe dried it and filed it away in the cupboards. She said that I should write about two strangers/new friends washing dishes in the kitchen and I assured her that I had already written part of the story in my head. A few short minutes later, with a hug and well wishes, we said goodbye and I waved to her as she drove down the long driveway. After watching her car disappear into the trees, I returned to the house where CAT had already begun the process of closing up the house by shutting off the water.
Benchly'sword 