Order-Out-of-Chaos!

Ever since my wife died I’ve had to cut out things that required the two of us.
There are certain foods I can no longer eat, like pizza. Pizza required two to make it; I’d make the sauce, and layer on the cheese, and my wife made the crust.
Home-made pizza.
Now I hafta purchase a fully-made frozen pizza at the store, to which I add cheese.
Other foods are spaghetti and tuna-fish casserole.
I could probably make the tuna-fish casserole, it’s not that involved.
I could probably also assemble the spaghetti, but at the moment I’m so distraught I’m not inclined.
It’s not just food-preparation, it’s also photographic jaunts.
I’d man the camera, and my wife had the dog.
Another is running. I’m not about to run with a large dog that might drag me into the woods if she saw a deer.
Bill and Lisa Robinson agreed to come and help me prepare tuna-fish casserole and spaghetti.
Bill and Lisa used to both work at the Messenger newspaper in Canandaigua, my post-stroke employer before I retired.
Lisa was in ad-sales, Bill in Editorial. Bill and I used to work in adjacent cubicles. We did the newspaper’s web-site at that time, Bill at first, then me when I got so I could do it.
At that time the web-site was not what it is now, so complicated I never look at it.
The web-site has gone through numerous iterations since we did it; at least one iteration while we did it.
Lisa quit, and then Bill.
At that time Bill and Lisa weren’t married, but they soon married. It was the second time for Bill; I don’t know about Lisa.
Lisa became a dog-groomer at a local veterinary hospital.
She developed such a large repeat-clientele, she decided to go out on-her-own.
So began Fetching-Looks Pet-Grooming, with Lisa as President, and Bill as her assistant.
Fetching-Looks is right down the street from the Canandaigua YMCA where I work out.
I don’t remember how we started, perhaps Facebook, but I needed a place to daycare my dog to work out at the YMCA.
They daycare my dog, and I have her groomed on occasion.
Bill fronts the store; Lisa does the grooming.
Bill has become my best contact in the grieving-process.
We are old friends who used to work together, so this makes sense.
He accompanied me to a local grief-share at his church, and suggested he could help me make tuna-fish casserole and spaghetti.
So yesterday (Monday, July 23, 2012) Bill and Lisa came to my house to help assemble meals.
They brought along their newborn daughter, Lilly, one year old July 18.
Bill manned the stove, and Lisa tended her daughter.
And so began our frenzied effort to prepare these two meals (which I will apportion into single-servings).
I became Bill’s clean-up man, telling him what to do, and trying to bring order out of chaos.
Bill is not Linda, but that’s okay.
You don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth.
First we did the tuna-fish casserole, then the spaghetti.
Pots and pans were flying.
We were trying to do what Linda and I would have done, but with tuna-fish casserole and spaghetti that’s not hard.
My spaghetti-sauce was already made, and next time I’ll probably use canned spaghetti-sauce.
Everything finished “Is there anything else we could do?” Bill asked.
“Well, we could install a floodlight using my heavy wooden extension-ladder that needs two big strong men.
Linda and I were getting too old to finesse that thing.”
Bill took the ladder and finagled it into position. It had to be set up in an open cellar Bilco-door to reach the light-fixture.
Bulb inserted, we tried it. It fools. It needs a few seconds to illuminate.
It worked; that bulb is finally installed. I’ve had it almost a year.
“What next?” Bill asked.
“The grand tour of the property, the 4.7 acres our dog has to hunt in.”
Quite a bit of the property is fenced with five-foot chain-link, perhaps three acres.
Much of it is reforested; the lot was an old corn-field.
The fence is so the dog won’t run onto the highway.
That done, Bill and Lisa left; everything took perhaps two-three hours.
“What can I say?” I said as they got into their car.
Help an old friend, devastated and heartbroken, that barely exists.
I now have enough meals for three-four months of weekends, plus a floodlight finally installed.

• My beloved wife of 44 years died of cancer April 17, 2012. She was 68. I miss her dearly.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered.
• I work out in the Canandaigua YMCA Exercise-Gym, appropriately named their “Wellness-Center,” usually two-three days per week, about two-three hours per visit.
• “Canandaigua” (“cannan-DAY-gwuh”) is a small city nearby where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” It’s about 14 miles away. —I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield, southeast of Rochester.
• My current dog is “Scarlett;” a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s seven, and is our sixth Irish-Setter, an extremely high-energy dog. (A “rescue Irish Setter” is an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill [Scarlett was from a failed backyard breeder]. By getting a rescue-dog, I avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Scarlett isn't bad.)