Beware the Ides of March

Dear Ravi,

My muse kicked me out of bed bright and early. Actually, it is dark and early with about six to 10 inches of snow on the ground. Supposedly, we are being visited by Blizzard Elsa. For the last few days, we have had winds from 40 to 60 miles an hour. The garbage and recycling cans are having races up and down the alley. The dogs were out for a 4am frolic. Amazingly, church services were cancelled for today. When hardy Episcopalian Minnesotans decide to cancel services, you know it has to be pretty rough outside. There is a pause in the snow right now and we will wait and see if it blows over or continues to pound us. But I digress…

Today is the Ides of March. Ides just means the middle day of the month, such as the 15th. Today was famous in history, because a long time ago a man named Julius Ceasar was the leader of ancient Rome. He was not the most popular kind of guy. In the middle of the night on the 15th of March his wife had a dream. In the dream she was told that Julius should not go to the forum that morning. I believe that she may have also consulted and oracle about this. Anyway, she wakes up her husband in a panic and begs him not to go to work. She tells him that she knows he looks cute and fetching in his toga, but this was a good day to call in sick. Julius chooses to ignore her, much to his own detriment. At work he gets stabbed in the back by his good buddy Brutus, and a bunch of his coworkers. That was the end of Julius . Brutus and his buddies probably went out for bagels and coffee. The moral of the story? If your wife or mother says not to go to work, or not to go bungee jumping, or to jump out of plane, it is probably better to listen to them!

So, it is 4am and I am thinking about Pi day, the Ides of March, and lots of other things. As I mentioned yesterday, Daddy made a delicious pecan pie. It has lots of pecans, bakers’ chocolate, and a healthy dash of rye, just for good measure. Like you, I don’t really like most pies, but pecan pie has always had a special place in my heart. Daddy last made a pecan pie when we were at the farm in Virginia for Thanksgiving. At the end of the meal, despite many other desserts on the table, there was not a scrap of it left!

Yesterday, daddy and I were at the store to get supplies before it snowed. It was very crowded with people getting last minute groceries. I noticed a man near us. He was wearing a shabby coat and looked like he spent a lot of time outdoors. I saw him pick up groceries, look at the prices, and then put them back down. In the frozen section I saw him slip some ice cream sandwiches into his pocket. I pretended not to have noticed and did not say a word. I know that I always told you that we had to pay for food before we could eat it. Things are very different now. Prices of gas, food, necessities are through the roof. The rule nowadays is if you see someone slipping food into the pocket or their bag, ignore them! Our country is bleeding billions upon billions of dollars into a senseless war, but people are cold and hungry, often unsheltered. The food banks and churches cannot keep up with the demand, no matter how hard they try. I know that you and I are both rule followers, but there is time to bend the rules. When people do not have what they need to survive and thrive, it is best to look the other way. When we see a man who is down on his luck sneak some food into his pocket, we look the other way. Full stop, period. It is better to give than to receive.

In a little bit, I will go out and shovel snow. The dogs will go out for a romp. Right now, the kitty and the computer are battling for a spot on my lap. It seems that the kitty is winning. You were never a real fan of snow. Your lack of body fat probably had a lot to do with that. If you were here now, we would snuggle on the couch with Sam, listen to your favorite tunes on Spotify, and eat Sour Patch Kids. We could watch Sid the Science Kid and giggle. I miss your goofy laugh. As it is, you are safe and warm in heaven, and I have snow to shovel. So, remember, eat pie on Pi Day, and don’t go to the forum on the Ides of March. You are old enough to drink, so if you want to tip back a Guiness on St Patrick’s Day, Peter and I would approve. Go live your best life in the afterlife. I love you forever. Mom.