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I step outside in the early morning, not long out of bed, to check the cats' water dish. Yes, it is solid ice. That still thrills me. It only happens, like, once a year.

* * *

June 12, 1994

Teri and I were battling it out over control of the very air we breathe. It was an ongoing war with occasional truces. It mostly died out eventually, maybe after the big cataclysm between Jack and me in '97. After that, she might have let up on me a little bit.

"Last night she left out a sour solution to grace the air - vinegar, I think - on the expressed belief that it absorbs odors. Personally, I am not so sure that it absorbs odors as much as overwhelm them with its own stench."

I covered up the vinegar solution with a plate, which then caused her to curse. Later, I used an air-freshener "laced with deodorizing baking soda". She then covered that up with what seemed to be bug spray, to which I fired back with my potpourri air-freshener.

I wrote, "It looks to me like we are in store for a climax of one kind or another. The home-life atmosphere seems to be highly unstable, like something has to give - probably me in some way."

o0o

Having written up this old journal entry this morning, I came out of my nap today, the first day of 2018, some twenty-three years after these events, feeling the conviction that a big part of my problem with Teri is that she really was too lame-brained. I know how terribly self-serving that sounds (aside from what that says of the stock I came from), but I don't think I ever thought of it quite like this before. I always thought of her difficulties in terms of her mental illness. I tended to dismiss her ignorance for want of education. Remember, I used to fancy that I might have gotten my intelligence from her, if I had any myself!

The thing is, she was always so cocky and strong-willed. Pop was the simple one, as in Simple Tree; mother was stormy, as in Stormy Dreamer. But she wasn't just mentally ill; she was ... really quite dumb. She always acted like she was holding a pair of aces in her hand, but it was always just a couple of junky low cards. And I kind of wanted to believe her. And it wasn't as though she never displayed a bit of sparkiness. Hmph, maybe I did get my mentality from her, just kicked up another gear or two.

Another thing is, to help complicate matters, she was probably onto something. I googled about vinegar absorbing odors, and it is supposed to work. But is it supposed to smell in its own right, though? Is it possible she did not use the advice correctly? maybe using the wrong kind of vinegar? or mixing it with something she wasn't supposed to? In any case, despite my convictions coming out of my nap, maybe I still don't know how to think about her, about us, about anything.

At least there is enough love there that I do miss her. Still, if I could meet up with only one being, when I die, I would choose Bo. She would choose Jack. That's just the way it is.

Heh, I wonder who Arthudo would pick? I honestly cannot come up with an answer. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't pick Teri. Is it possible that the answer could be me? A good guess would be a woman, and if not his onetime wife, then maybe Kay or Lorie, but they seem too recent and not that deeply involved, but maybe I am wrong about this. Could it be Teri, after all, maybe when she was young, when they were young, in their twenties? All I know is that I like that answer - maybe with Jack and me, when we were young kids, with one family counting as one person. I like that a lot, that this would be Arthudo's happiest scene, but I doubt he'd answer that way. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I still don't know how to think about him, either. You know, being young lovers with Teri is not a bad bet, when she was still a teenager, a sexy white girl, and he was the big man raising her up to a better life. That was most likely the height of his life - not of her life, but certainly his.

[January 1, 2018]
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