After 22 years of blissful cohabitation, Harriet and I are closer to making the living arrangement a little more formal -- the tipping point being the upcoming retirement situation.
So, first stop, H&R Block, to get financial ducks-in-row -- closed today, open tomorrow;
next,
By The People, to see if any wisdom in this regard can be gleaned --
out to lunch and By Appointment Only -- leave a message.
Cross
Fairfield
to
the
impressive /
surreal
courthouse area,
initially
thinking
we
are
bound for the halls of justice (of the peace, and all -- however, the airport-style security entrance suggests otherwise), but rather the pretty-much-unmarked
Recorder's Office --
a reflective,
splendiferous
space,
and time to explore a bit,
including taking in the
mid-staircase mural
(albeit perhaps a little dated in Native-American depiction, mission-bell-shaped apetures, and better-living-through industry motifs),
since many departments take a lunch break (! -- how non-public oriented, since many folks undoutably would only have their own similiar breaks in which to do business).
At any rate, the appointed hour over, we proceed ambiguously, since there is a sign at the information desk indicating marriage licenses both on this floor and above
(of course, people do go both ways).
We gamble on Human Services, they send us upstairs to what I'm pretty sure is the request-for-copy-of-previous-marriage-license (it is, suspect that the gentleman downstairs figured we couldn't possibly be first-tie subscribers), and they send us back down to County Clerk / Tax Collector, which is indeed the correct, if non-intuitive spot, but then, lo,
the sign -- and couldn't this have been spelled out by someone earlier in our questionings?
Homeward,
via errands,
without finding certain prescription (although generic available and availed) or
properly-sized furnace filter...
so the whole day seems rather Taoist / Wu Wei: where nothing and everything is accomplished, and we've had a fine time, but, to mixed-religious metaphors,
the karma kontinues with
dutifully filling out the
online marriage license,
only to be stymied when,
attempting to schedule a ceremony, the site says "none available at this time" and please call etc, and when we dial there is nothing except information re paying taxes...
It's that kind of day, 3rd of spring, high back up 2 to 53 (ABA of 53-51-53 these first 3 days of the new year, with Fairfield at 54), listening to Ralph Vaughan Williams's Serenade to Music (1938) and
Felix Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4 ("Italian"), Op. 90, among other endeavors, while page 3'ing it for both the editing of
Four Prophets, Op. 357 (2021)
II. Joel (Locusts)
and composition o'
Book of Dreams, 2022, Op. 376 (2022)
I. January 1
3am Gallon of Milk / 5am Musical Comparisons Flute-Oboe / 9am Waiting for the Thunder
+ more nocturnal hallucinations, as
III. January 3
4am Coached by an All-Black Soccer Squad and We Are an Excellent Team,
and Beginning to Love the Game... So How Did the Tech Get the Virus to Us?
They Got It Through the Christmas Tree... Harriet Sits Down to a Meal...
5am Pouring Water into the Recyclables Paper Bag...
Jewish Priests Bowing Low Then Raising Up transformed
with Colorful Carnival Costumes
6am Vote! Every Third Worker Will Be Fired.... 6/8 Syncopated...
10am A Little Girl Running Through Door at Christmastime, Filmed by Father, Displayed on TV,
I Get to Watch in Chair, Everyone Thinks Situation Is Hilarious, We Try Same...
Before Packing Up from Trip, at Airport, Stuffing Lingerie into Lower Compartment of
Rolling-on-Wheels Backpack Luggage, Nothing Seems to Fit, Spills Out,
Blame Situation on Wife... Also Toys, Transparency Issues....