Not A Darned Thing

That's what I did today, not a darned thing.  I took a shower (no photos, please), got dressed (ditto), didn't see any notable birds, didn't sew, barely knitted, watched a little tv while dozing on the couch.  So this is all there is.


18 November--Barbara Malcolm, Spies Don't Retire. 

It took George and Dimitri a while to realize they were allied against their wives.  After that first breakfast both of them thought their meeting was the beginning of a friendship and they were puzzled by their wives' reactions.  They had each brought home gifts and shared the happy news that neither one seemed to be there to subvert the other, that they had someone on the island who shared the same work experiences that that they could identify with.  It made no difference to the men that they had worked on opposite political sides; they had each retired long after the Cold War had ended and were used to the idea that at least officially Great Britain and Russia were allies.  Neither man was naïve enough to think that the signing of treaties and accords and the standing down of their ready armies was an instant fix to what had been nearly fifty years of covert conflict.  But each of them felt on that drive home from Rincon that he had an opportunity to push away the veil that divided them even further.  It was a shock that their wives disagreed so strongly.

When they finally realized that their wives had drawn their own battle lines and had every intention of keeping them as far apart as it was possible on so small an island with such a small population of expatriates, they had their own council of peace.  Their first, and easiest, decision was to embrace the other’s pet hobby.  George contacted Jeremy Minten about joining the birders some morning and was welcomed with, if not open arms, then with cordiality.  Being a novice at it, Jeremy quite by accident paired George with Dimitri on his first outing with the group.  George proved to be a quick study and quickly matched Dimitri’s reputation for having the quick eyes to spot fleeting glimpses of the birds they sought.  Dimitri had to tell George the names of the birds he had spotted and recommended he acquire an identification book to study and learn from so he could have a better idea where to look for what.  That was when Dimitri lamented how old the currently available guide to birds on their island was and suggested the group undertake a project to update it.

The same thing happened when Dimitri came to his first meeting of the snorkeling group.  Never a very strong swimmer, Mike paired him up with George who carried a Red Cross Lifesaving card and had been snorkeling and scuba diving for years.  George lent Dimitri a mask with the snorkel attached and a pair of neoprene booties and fins that were better quality and a much better fit than the aged and overused things in the club’s gear locker.  He also outfitted the Russian with a snorkeling vest he could inflate by mouth if he felt intimidated by the waves or water depth.  That first snorkel over a shallow reef a few yards from shore blew Dimitri’s mind.  George had given him a plastic fish I.D. card on a lanyard to attach to his vest and he spent the entire time finning over to George pointing at something on the card and then pointing down at the reef.  When they left the water Dimitri was transformed.  No longer was he the overbearing man everyone but George was familiar with, he chattered to anyone who would listen about the wonders he had seen, waved his arms around in his enthusiasm, and quizzed each of them about how often the group met and if there were any other places where he might see even more of the fascinating sea creatures.  One of the other men had a Paul Humann’s Reef Set books that identified not only reef fish but also critters like shrimp and sponges and a separate volume about corals and plants.  Dimitri sat happily while Mike and Mason fired up the grill and slapped the burgers on for the group’s lunch, talking to himself, repeating the Latin and common names and chortling with glee when he came across the list in the back of the fish book that allows a person to note where and when he has seen a particular fish.  “Just like a birder’s life list,” he exclaimed.  “I must get one of these books and begin immediately.”  During lunch he circulated among the dozen or so participants that day, asking questions about which masks were best, which fins were the most comfortable, and where he could get himself a set of those fish I.D. books.  Mason and George had to chuckle to see the change in Dimitri.

Mason leaned over and said, “George, I do believe you have created a monster today.”

George smiled.  “I’m just returning the favor.  I was paired up with him at the birders’ outing last week and he whetted my appetite for that with his knowledge and spotting skills.  I’ve already bought new boots and a better pair of binocs.  Dug out a pocket notebook to start my bird sighting life list too.  Sonia is thrilled that I have another excuse to get out of her hair so she can futz with that computer of hers in peace.”  

Sorry to be so dull but today was a dull sort of day.  It never got very light and the cloud cover was thick and impenetrable. Maybe the sun will shine tomorrow. 

--Barbara