Notes from the Pantry
“Sometimes the dragons are yours. Sometimes they’re borrowed.”
May 1, 2025
Editors note: I'm embarrassed to have misspelled the title of Glimmers. There's sloppy, then there's just dumb. I did not know how to spell it. Uhg! Look for part 06, the exciting conclusion of “Journeyman” later tonight. Probably right after this.
“Journeyman” was surprisingly emotional to write—and more than a little bit of a struggle. As I continue learning how to write, I’m discovering a lot about myself. One thing is that I prefer to just free write. The idea of a target is new. Like painting though, a good plan generally can prove beneficial.
The absence of rules is the enemy of art.
But, one may argue that the absence of rules IS the rule, in the case of free writing. Regardless. It was an enjoyable project that was born out of writing the first entry, Vacuum one morning just after waking. I do most of my writing in the morning, when the house is quiet and I’m at my most focused—and, in many ways, my most creative. It's certainly my highest energy.
I hope you enjoyed the series. Some journeys can only be understood in hindsight. I know one day, I'll look back on my life and it will all be the gorgeous mosaic that felt so hard to do while living it but in retrospect seems bucolic and refreshing.
I read a few days ago that anxiety is just living in the future. Don't displace now for what may be. Good advice. I applied it a lot the last few days during what was a very emotionally tumultuous week, and it was very helpful. What tomorrow brings can be dealt with then. As for now, in this moment. Life is pretty great.
No dragons to slay, just princesses to rescue. Wait, aren't they a package deal?
Maybe I mean no dragons of my OWN. Other people's dragons are generally easier to slay.
I digress.
Speaking of slaying others dragon's: an old friend called yesterday. She was struggling with frustration and feelings of worthlessness. Her husband of 61 years is dying of cancer. A hard death too. Not like my wife's sister. He's... well, let's just say that death delayed is more bitter than death itself.
So we talked for a long time. My newfound emotional depth in recovery is proving quite useful for moments like that. I felt like I was able to really connect with her. My historical modus operandi is to share some comforting words from God's Word, all truths, and to say 'I'm sorry you're feeling this way, hang in there.' And if that’s all the juice you’ve got, it’s good enough.
But yesterday, I felt like she was lost at the bottom of a well and when I lowered myself in a bucket, I realized I knew the space she was in and didn't have the fear I once did being there!
Dare I say, I may have gained a little strength the last 8 months?!
Don't get ahead of yourself, Woolf.
She was pleasantly effusive in her thanks at helping climb out of the metaphoric hole in the ground. So much so, she and her best friend surprised us with enough food last night to feed three families!
Which is what we did. We ate heartily of fried chicken, okra, cornbread, potato salad and Cole slaw—and amazing pie. Then packaged it up and delivered to some family and friends who were equally effusive in their thanks.
I'll be honest, the whole experience felt like an answer to a prayer.
Dawn seems so bright after the third watch.
We also had a touching moment when our brother-in-law came by with a necklace we had given my wife's sister in 2013 when we all went to Jamaica. We bought matching silver palm trees for all three of them. Not that he thought we wanted it back. But he felt like we would appreciate the reminder. And we did. It was bittersweet to remember that trip. We laughed and cried over the memories we made together.
I recalled dancing with my sister-in-law at the resort night club. We discovered that if we went between 10 and midnight, the drunks weren't out yet and the 6 of us had the dance floor to ourselves and a DJ happy to play whatever we wanted. I think that was the only time in my life that we were at a dance club with an actual light up checkered dance floor and a smoke machine.
It was a magical week every night from 10 to midnight. I wish you could have joined us, dear reader.
Then there was the snorkeling and the sailing and trying to learn to surf. I don't know where the rest of the family was, my wife was busy getting sailing lessons while I tried to learn how to surf. It was a non-starter because the other pupil was a VERY buxom and well assembled 22 year old blond from someplace with a beach (an assumption based on her tan) and a fluorescent bikini. I didn't stand a chance with Glenroy, our instructor. I would get 30 seconds of 'yes yes, do this' and then flop around in the surf while he played Patrick Swayze to her Demi Moore in the surfing equivalent of throwing pottery.
As a man, how can I blame him. We are simple, dumb creatures. “Big fat retards” in the parlance of Paulette of Legally Blonde.
It was almost a perfect trip. The company certainly was. The three sisters were a force for nature the entire week together. God—how I love(d) those women.
—
Last night ran a little late (until 1 am) with a viewing of The Fellowship of the Ring. I was pleased that my wife kept commenting that I seem to know the entire film line for line. I like to think that was because I read the book 7 or 8 times when I was 13. But, watching the film with frequency over the last twenty-ish years, probably is why I know when Gandalf says, “Keep it Secret! Keep it Safe!” Or When Frodo says, “That's no moon!” Wait... maybe I'm mixing my movies.
I love it. No kidding, right?
—
Because the night ran late, the morning did too, with breakfast with my nephew. He’s excited to have left his old job for a new one that lets him work from home—no more travel. The death of his mother has really galvanized his desire to support his family in all ways. His old job required frequent travel whenever a disaster struck (he was an insurance adjuster).
Historically, he and I are not deeply close. His relationship with my wife, his aunt, was generally our connection. But I think he senses that I've been unmoored for some time, a state he can relate too, and he is seeking connection with the loss of one of the most important people in his life so he's drawing in those who knew her best.
My wife didn't sleep well the night before, so she skips the light fare and conversation. Too bad, I missed her input and commentary. And I think my nephew and his father like having her around. She is a lot like her sister was. Not as pragmatic, but certainly at LEAST as much fun.
We talked about our recent trip and the near devastating storms we had. Thankfully tornadoes were minimal and flooding is contained to places designed to flood. So no loss of life in the immediate area.
Work is slow this week, so I'm on pantry duty. We built an absurdly overstocked pantry during the pandemic and it's time to dump stuff that we're never going to eat. The birds are going to get fat from all of the past-due granola!
And I'm going to fire this dumb cat. Somehow a mouse got in while we were gone and wreaked havoc and let fly the dogs of war on anything that was packaged in plastic. Good grief, cat, you had ONE job while we were gone. And with us out of the way, no distractions.
Maybe the mouse is part of a rodent-mob and they made the cat an offer it couldn't refuse? I'd like to meet this Don Velveto Whickerone. Him and his upstart son, Michael Softpaw. I've got an offer I'd like to make—of steel and wood!
I've rambled long enough, dear reader. Congratulations if you made it this far down. Your prize is that you are now that much closer to infinity.
Go now, little one. The tunnels are long, and the night is full of sounds.
Remember—never show your tail to a cat, and always come home with your whiskers clean.
I give you my squeak... and my blessing.”
Love always,
Charlie
#randomthoughts #essay #memoir
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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