Letters from Home

The Bacon Fat on the Counter

I did the dishes. But I left the Presto Power Crisp full of bacon fat on the counter.

It’s not that I’m not interested in cleaning it– I scrubbed WAY more disgusting pans at The Passage in the London, where burning oatmeal in the bottom of a pot the size of the Queen’s bathtub seemed to be as much tradition as high tea.

No. It’s not that. It’s just that finishing things has never been my strong suit.

I don’t know why… I wonder myself what makes me want to leave that last bit of bagel on the plate or carry around the hundreds of novel pages in my laptop from here to there.

“Good thing I read your blog,” Colin said as he looked over my shoulder as I typed, “otherwise I wouldn’t have known.”

About the bacon fat that is… Colin is painfully aware, I am sure, of my penchant for unfinished business. (Meanwhile he goes to clean the fat pan).

One of the things I liked about Colin was his follow through. Man that guy would get focused and never let go. But since we have at least 4 unfinished projects around the house, I am afraid I might be wearing off on him.

Meanwhile, we beat back the tide of junk that continues to spillover onto every empty-flat space, despite my regular purging of unnecessaries into the trash.Maybe we are just too busy holding back the tsunami of mundanity to be expected to complete the task of amazing simplicity.

One thought on “The Bacon Fat on the Counter

  1. I think it’s fully a function of personality. So don’t feel guilty about not cleaning up the last bit.

    The piles on my desk must *always* have at least a little bit in them – otherwise life would not be in balance.

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