Crap! I looked like I’d fought a battle with a dirt monster and lost. My thinning hair was greasy and matted, my once white undershirt was a dingy shade of gray, and a week’s worth of stubble did nothing to improve my appearance. I removed my socks, dropped my trousers and slid out of my jockey shorts before I added my shirt and T-shirt to the pile of dirty clothes at my feet.“Should I wash them or burn ‘em?” I pointed to the floor.“Neither. We should bury them in the garden. We’re always in need of fertilizer,” the driver with rust-brown hair suggested with a laugh.Seraina’s daughter dashed across the room to the showers and turned on a dozen before she vanished behind clouds of billowing steam. A few moments later, a naked Starshine emerged from the fog.“Come on!” she shouted with glee as she beckoned us to join her.Our two rescue drivers exchanged glances, whispered a few words to each other, disrobed and entered the rising mist. A hot shower after a long bone-chilling day riding. It’s okay. Susie asked me to meet her at Starbucks and shop for clothes.”I suppressed a smile. “When did she ask you?”Rory grinned. “She’s about to!” she said, picking up her cell phone.I let her go with a stern warning; no motorcycle rides. While disappointed at not having her company, it was her summer holiday. I happily set about mowing the lawn, making sure the mowed lines were linear perfection. Cleaning and bringing order to the house was enjoyable. As I straightened, I wondered, was I anally retentive about these things?Grocery shopping on a weekend, when I could take my time, was a real joy. I loved food. I liked to experiment. And I loved to cook. The local supermarket provided a wonderful selection of fresh fruits and vegetables. A butcher in town - a rare sight - had incredible cuts of meat. I chose thick Angus steaks aged twenty-eight days, some handmade pork, herb, and fennel sausages, and thick, pale veal chops. Larry, the proprietor of the fishmongers, steered me.
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