That's all I'm looking at online these days. Piano for elephants. I can play piano, hell, I can play a mean Pachelbel or a Liszt , if you prefer and I'm going to take over for Paul when he retires. The piano is closer to my size anyway. It'll be great. Packing my shit now, see you soon.
***
August is moving in effective this morning. The only thing he'll miss about living alone is not sharing a kitchen (no one's going to eat his weird chai pudding, I don't know why he's so concerned) and his beautiful hanging bed, which will be abandoned however briefly for a sturdy pine four-poster that will hold him just fine.
(Gage has his own bed, don't worry. We always keep a furnished spare room for guests and such. This room is removed slightly from the living quarters so it's a true guest suite. It's tucked off the library with an ensuite and separate entrance into the front garden. It's nice. I hardly ever see it.)
He is relieved but a little surprised at the strange turn of events. I mean, they all are lately, aren't they? Every event seems like a mockery of real life these days, every new story a caricature of something tangible, but not quite.
He is firmly in the 'Against' camp but was an easy approval to bring in only because he doesn't leave the grounds. At all.
I'm in the Against camp too. Don't bring me a Collective and then rip them away without closure. Don't deny me my boys. Even to bounce ideas off for writing or deciding on paint colors or just sharing music.
Others in the Against camp are Batman and New Jake, who don't go out either. Batman has groceries delivered and works nonstop from home. New Jake polishes his motorcycles and kitesurfs all day long (we're...not sure exactly what he does anymore but he's a mean chimney sweep and also has his gas ticket now and is helpful and fun and a good conversationalist and I guess he works for Batman and sometimes Sam but I no longer see how, truth be told. They tend to be happier when we're apart.)
Daniel is Against. He needs people. He's like me. Affection is oxygen, touch is blood running through our veins.
Andrew and Christian are For isolation. They're concerned and they're newlyweds.
Gage doesn't care. Hahahaha. I'm not surprised. Gage flows like a river.
Schuyler is in the For camp. He's travelled extensively this spring already. He picks up groceries and take-out. He's scared to death he's going to give it to Daniel. He's scared he might get it or have it or transmit it. He was the first one to bring up the idea, apparently, even though I'll go to my grave blaming Caleb for it, but at the same time if now is the time to do this, then it's far too late.
I am their biggest fear with my endless colds. My penchant for pulling pneumonia out of thin air every eighteen months like a parlour trick. My intense wanderlust, my need to get out of the house and at least get what we need at least twice a week and do stupid things like forgetting about germs or replying politely when people speak too close, because I lean in in order to hear them better.
So this is for me.
Everyone in this house is in the For camp, in other words.
It's not as if I'm going out and trying to live business as usual. The only time I leave the house is once a week for groceries, with help and once a week for drugstore/sundry errands, most of which have been cut back so far I may be able to roll that in with groceries. My wanderlust shouts at me in the background somewhat constantly and sometimes it's so loud I want to drown myself.
We need food and we're perfectly able-bodied so I won't be putting a strain on delivery services or any other human beings right now. This is my family, I will get our food.
Caleb's right. Schuy's right, Bridge. You can't go out anymore.
What am I supposed to do, Locket. Risk someone else?
No, PJ and I will go. We're healthy. We'll take precautions.
You won't buy broccoli though.
That's right. It's disgusting. I'll get corn, though. He laughs but he looks concerned.
The irony. This is the same man that more than once brought me to tears, threatening to ground me from the nightly fireworks show at close of day if I didn't eat the broccoli trees that were still on my plate. The same one who told me the world wasn't safe and to stand behind him and we're still struggling with this decades later.
I'm now home for the duration of whatever this is, or until the elephant videos and the music runs out.
Then I'm running. Screaming.
Jake would have hated this turn of events in the world. But he would have hated everything that happened before it too-
Bridget. Ben says my name, a warning as he watches my brain derail into a field, blowing the townsfolk to kingdom come.
WHAT?
***
August is moving in effective this morning. The only thing he'll miss about living alone is not sharing a kitchen (no one's going to eat his weird chai pudding, I don't know why he's so concerned) and his beautiful hanging bed, which will be abandoned however briefly for a sturdy pine four-poster that will hold him just fine.
(Gage has his own bed, don't worry. We always keep a furnished spare room for guests and such. This room is removed slightly from the living quarters so it's a true guest suite. It's tucked off the library with an ensuite and separate entrance into the front garden. It's nice. I hardly ever see it.)
He is relieved but a little surprised at the strange turn of events. I mean, they all are lately, aren't they? Every event seems like a mockery of real life these days, every new story a caricature of something tangible, but not quite.
He is firmly in the 'Against' camp but was an easy approval to bring in only because he doesn't leave the grounds. At all.
I'm in the Against camp too. Don't bring me a Collective and then rip them away without closure. Don't deny me my boys. Even to bounce ideas off for writing or deciding on paint colors or just sharing music.
Others in the Against camp are Batman and New Jake, who don't go out either. Batman has groceries delivered and works nonstop from home. New Jake polishes his motorcycles and kitesurfs all day long (we're...not sure exactly what he does anymore but he's a mean chimney sweep and also has his gas ticket now and is helpful and fun and a good conversationalist and I guess he works for Batman and sometimes Sam but I no longer see how, truth be told. They tend to be happier when we're apart.)
Daniel is Against. He needs people. He's like me. Affection is oxygen, touch is blood running through our veins.
Andrew and Christian are For isolation. They're concerned and they're newlyweds.
Gage doesn't care. Hahahaha. I'm not surprised. Gage flows like a river.
Schuyler is in the For camp. He's travelled extensively this spring already. He picks up groceries and take-out. He's scared to death he's going to give it to Daniel. He's scared he might get it or have it or transmit it. He was the first one to bring up the idea, apparently, even though I'll go to my grave blaming Caleb for it, but at the same time if now is the time to do this, then it's far too late.
I am their biggest fear with my endless colds. My penchant for pulling pneumonia out of thin air every eighteen months like a parlour trick. My intense wanderlust, my need to get out of the house and at least get what we need at least twice a week and do stupid things like forgetting about germs or replying politely when people speak too close, because I lean in in order to hear them better.
So this is for me.
Everyone in this house is in the For camp, in other words.
It's not as if I'm going out and trying to live business as usual. The only time I leave the house is once a week for groceries, with help and once a week for drugstore/sundry errands, most of which have been cut back so far I may be able to roll that in with groceries. My wanderlust shouts at me in the background somewhat constantly and sometimes it's so loud I want to drown myself.
We need food and we're perfectly able-bodied so I won't be putting a strain on delivery services or any other human beings right now. This is my family, I will get our food.
Caleb's right. Schuy's right, Bridge. You can't go out anymore.
What am I supposed to do, Locket. Risk someone else?
No, PJ and I will go. We're healthy. We'll take precautions.
You won't buy broccoli though.
That's right. It's disgusting. I'll get corn, though. He laughs but he looks concerned.
The irony. This is the same man that more than once brought me to tears, threatening to ground me from the nightly fireworks show at close of day if I didn't eat the broccoli trees that were still on my plate. The same one who told me the world wasn't safe and to stand behind him and we're still struggling with this decades later.
I'm now home for the duration of whatever this is, or until the elephant videos and the music runs out.
Then I'm running. Screaming.
Jake would have hated this turn of events in the world. But he would have hated everything that happened before it too-
Bridget. Ben says my name, a warning as he watches my brain derail into a field, blowing the townsfolk to kingdom come.
WHAT?