Mondays with Mike: Sittin’ on a rainbow

In news of the banal, our bathroom remodel is almost done. We’re finally back home, after four nights at a local hotel, five more with our friends in Urbana, and five at a friend’s here in Printers Row.

It’s hardly been a hardship—I was fortunate to have enough air miles to be able to stay at a hotel, and to have such generous friends who are so lovely to be with. But it has been something of a disorienting grind. Especially for Beth, who has to make substantial adjustments with each new environment.

And, when it’s hard on Beth, it’s hard on me and Beth. Because she has to rely on me more, and more than either of us likes. We’re a lot better than we used to be at these kinds of times, when she has to lean on me more. That’s largely because we recognize why we’re getting annoyed and short with one another. And we check it. But I’m really looking forward to putting the house in order and getting back to a familiar rut. Ruts are underrated. It’s good, even luxurious, to be able to take some things for granted.

It’s all made me consider true hardship. Our inconvenience is nothing compared to what the homeless experience. To the would-be immigrants from Central and South America—however you feel about immigration and walls and policy—the idea that things get so bad that you’d head out with your family without knowing what lies in store—that’s pretty awfully bad. And the people in Ukraine.

So, as Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney sang in White Christmas, I’ve been counting my blessings at the outset of 2023. They include our family, our incredible friends, our blog readers and for me, especially, Beth. With that I’ll leave you with a performance by the late John Prine and Iris DeMent.

Beth and I are, in spite of ourselves, sittin’ on a rainbow.

Click to hear a great song.