Still life with bananas

In years to come, Ottawacker Jr. will examine the habits of his parents and wonder why we are still putting all our shopping in a back room for three days or scrubbing it relentlessly with soap and water.

For that is, of course, the routine that anything new to our house must follow. Letters go out for 24 hours, clothes are immediately laundered, door handles disinfected. I am sure it is the same all over the world. Except, of course, in the White House, where daily Lysol injections manage to prevent all known sicknesses and none of these precautions are required.

And so it was that Mrs. Ottawacker was to be found standing over the sink scrubbing bananas and melons, oranges and lemons, and anything else that could take it, to within an inch of its life. It has become part of our family spectacle. If only she could do it later on in the day, I could pour a drink, make some hummus, and have my apéritif watching her.

Ah, the family traditions we could have if only Mrs. Ottawacker were willing.

Elsewhere in the world, I discovered what a lithophone is and, thanks to Jean-Loup Ringot (one of the original paleontological Beatles), how it is played. Well worth a listen if you like early rock music. And by that, I mean prehistoric music played on rocks.